


A Story Ever Shifting

by Dikhotomia



Series: 1000 Prompts Attempt 2: The (Slightly) Unorganized Mess [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Action, All the AU's ever, Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, More Info In Chapter Notes, Now with Hegeleth, Pretty much everything I can possibly think of will show up in a chapter somewhere, Rating for later chapters, Some Fluff, Some angst, Some comedy, some smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 42,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22270897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dikhotomia/pseuds/Dikhotomia
Summary: Edeleth across universes, across times. (Occasionally Feat. Other Ships and other characters.)AKA time to try to be ambitious again, let's see how well I do this time.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & My Unit | Byleth, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Series: 1000 Prompts Attempt 2: The (Slightly) Unorganized Mess [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1594495
Comments: 138
Kudos: 581





	1. Counting Pennies (Devil May Cry AU)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 2. Pennies
> 
> Uh. Devil May Cry AU. Feat. Demon Hunter Byleth and Half Demon Edelgard.

Coming back from her mission, she expected two things; a hot shower, and food. It was all she had been craving since the moment she stepped out of the portal to the underworld and back into the mess that was the modern world, covered in demon guts and blood and God only knew what else. She expected it, but she also knew there was a great chance she wouldn't get it, given the unpredictable nature of her life.

Demon hunters only got what they wanted half the time, but she'd take a half instead of a zero any day. So when she pushes the door open to her office and sees a bunch of dead demons scattered around the floor (some pinned to the wall and one hanging off the ceiling fan -- _and how the fuck did that get up there_ \-- ) she's just not at all surprised it's one of the other fifty percent.

At least, she thinks, stepping into the office with it's creaky wood and squeaky fan currently somehow still spinning, they're all dead and not waiting in ambush. 

She assumes the half demon sitting at the desk, feet kicked up onto it's surface, horns gleaming wickedly in the sickly yellow glow of the desk lamp and something held in gloved hands, is the cause of all the death around her office. "You could have cleaned up," she says and Edelgard looks up, the familiar demonic violet of her eyes fixing on her.

"I meant to," she says, casting a glance around her. "But I was busy counting pennies." Byleth sees what it is in her hand now, an old coin roll filled to bursting with said pennies.

" _Pennies_? Where did you get all the pennies? and where did all these demons come from anyway?" She sounds as incredulous about the pennies as she feels, the demons not so much. Edelgard pulls her feet off the desk as Byleth crosses over to it, and she catches a flicker of her tail as it lashes out behind her with the movement.

Balancing.

"Demons where here when I got back, so I assume whatever you were doing downstairs pissed them off. Pennies where part of a payment for the job I did recently, 2.1k in cash fifty in pennies. Getting ambushed when I walked through the door made me lose some of them so If you find any around the office I want them." So, Byleth assumes from the dark look on Edelgard's face as she stares down at the rolls scattering the desk, she can feed them to her client with her fist.

"Sure, but please don't do what you're thinking," she says, reaching out to place her hand on one of Edelgard's. "As funny as it would probably be." Edelgard's tail lashes out behind her again, swishing back and forth as her lip curls back from too sharp teeth.

"Fine, you're right. I shouldn't as much as I want to," she says, sighing, glaring down at the rolls again. "I'm not taking a job from him again," she mumbles darkly, dropping the roll in her hand down with the others. "Ever."

Byleth makes a note not to either, remembering the man's name and face from when he came in a few weeks ago.

_Weeks._

She's been gone a lot longer then she thought.

"El," she says, waiting until the other woman is looking at her again, and she reaches out to trace one of her horns from base to tip, enjoying the way they curve back along the top of her skull. "Let's clean up okay? so I can shower and we can finally order food. I bet your starving."

"Can I pay the pizza guy in pennies?" Edelgard asks, smile showing she's not entirely serious.

"No," Byleth says, laughing and heading into the back of the office. "You may not."

She hears the half demon behind her snort before the chair scrapes across the floor as Edelgard stands, Byleth turning in time to see her stretch, amused at the way her tail moves with her, straightening, curling, then relaxing in time with the other woman's shoulders.

It's a barometer for her moods and Byleth finds herself watching it when Edelgard doesn't have it hidden under her clothes; lashing when she's agitated, flicking or twitching when she's up to no good, or the way it swishes when she's happy or excited. She can tell from the way it moves now, lazily twitching that she's content, likely pleased that Byleth is back home instead of out away from her.

She'd admit to not liking it either, their periods of separation even if they both knew they couldn't always take the same jobs. There was only two of them, and it makes her think that maybe they ought to try and find more help. It wasn't like they were the only two hunters in the world.

"Are we going to clean up?" Edelgard's voice pulls her from her thoughts, eyes jumping from the other's boots to her eyes, face heating when she meets those eyes and that smug smirk. "Or are you going to stare at me all night? I don't mind...but this place is going to get pretty ripe if we don't at least get rid of the corpses."

"And whose fault is that?" Byleth fires back, raising an eyebrow.

Edelgard spreads her hands, shoulders rising in a shrug. "My client's."

They both break into laughter, then get to work.

It takes them the better part of the evening, neither of them really bothered by the mess that comes with getting blood out of carpets and wood, Byleth laughing when at one point Edelgard kicks the jukebox back into working order with a hissed complaint about it being too damn quiet.

The music that spills out of it is a favorite of them both, and they move around one another more like dancers after that, stepping close without touching, amused glances and quiet laughter. This, she thinks as she scrubs out another spot, humming along to the music, this is what she always misses most.

Not the cleaning, but the domesticity of living with Edelgard. Of being with her.

"Okay," Byleth says, three hours into cleaning and staring up at the demon still hanging from the ceiling fan. "How the _fuck_ did you manage that?"

"Uhh," Edelgard drawls from beside her, hands resting on her hips. "You know I can't actually remember," she says finally, and Byleth looks at her, looks at the lip she has held between her teeth and the look of confusion pinched between her brows. "I probably threw it."

"Of course you did," Byleth sighs, rubbing an itch at the back of her neck and coming away with...something she doesn't try to identify, instead flicking it away into the nearby trash sack. "How do you suppose we get it down?"

"With the broom?"

Byleth rolls her eyes.

It takes them another twenty minutes to actually get the thing down without causing further bodily harm, and by seven the office is as spotless as it was going to be, bodies and blood and viscera all tossed back into the underworld were it belonged. 

They find the rest of Edelgard's pennies while they do it, the half demon muttering darkly with each new one uncovered. A small, slightly lopsided stack now sits on the desk, waiting for Edelgard to return to it and finish rolling them up.

By eight they're both freshly showered and splitting a pizza and a two liter bottle of coke, TV playing old action movies Edelgard makes fun of even though Byleth knows she secretly enjoys them.

By eleven both of them are asleep on one another.


	2. 10 Times The Charm (Gamer!Byleth AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"What'd you bring back, El?" she asks, catching sight of the red of Edelgard's shirt as the other woman moves from the hall to the kitchen._
> 
> _"Dinner," Edelgard replies. "And some snacks, I remember you mentioning the other day you wanted chips and salsa, so I picked them up." She hears the bag rustle and Edelegard's right before the other woman emerges from the kitchen doorway, said chips and salsa in hand._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Prompt 4 Salsa)
> 
> While this was an older AU concept inspired by someone in my discord server, I wanted to do this for Byleth being in smash so. Enjoy, Gamer Byleth, playing Smash feat running commentary from Edelgard and dunking on Dimitri.

She's knee deep in the third round when Edelgard comes home, takes one look at the TV, at her, then turns around and leaves the living room again. She can hear her in the background between rapid fire thoughts of which strategy to employ; keys dropping against the hook they keep them on, the shuffle of her coat and her boots thunking against the floor. She knocks her opponent off the ledge for a win by the time she hears the crinkle of grocery bags, and she leans off the side of the couch.

"What'd you bring back, El?" she asks, catching sight of the red of Edelgard's shirt as the other woman moves from the hall to the kitchen.

"Dinner," Edelgard replies. "And some snacks, I remember you mentioning the other day you wanted chips and salsa, so I picked them up." She hears the bag rustle and Edelegard's steps right before the other woman emerges from the kitchen doorway, said chips and salsa in hand.

"Nice! I could go for some right now," she replies, scooting over on the couch as Edelgard puts them down and holds up a finger to say she'll join her in a second. Nodding she sits back as Edelgard vanishes back into the kitchen, turning her attention back to wait as the matchmaker finds her the next opponent.

Edelgard comes back with two cokes, then drops on the couch beside her, watching the screen a moment as she pulls her phone out of her pocket. "You match with Dimitri yet? I saw on Discord that he's playing."

"Twice," Byleth says, popping open the Salsa and reaching for the chip bag. "Has he yelled yet?" she asks, watching Edelgard scroll through the group chat.

"Nope, he did make a comment about losing a few matches so far but it not being a big deal." Edelgard smirks, types, then sets her phone down. Byleth tries not to laugh as the next match starts, watching out of the corner of her eye as Edelgard dips a chip into the salsa and eats, kicking her feet up on the table.

"I wonder how long it'll take him to catch on," Byleth muses, squinting at the screen slightly in concentration as she chains a combo together. "Like, we've been wrecking him in games for months and he still hasn't figured it out."

"He still hasn't even figured out it's optional to have the 'what are you playing?' feature on," Edelgard comments, consulting her phone again when both of them hear it ping. "Sylvain turned it on and it's been a running gag ever since." She types something else, then laughs to herself.

Byleth knows it was Edelgard that convinced Sylvain to do it as a joke, but it was also her own fault for deciding to join in on it. One game after another, either playing with him or against him and seeing how long it took him to lose his mind.

His twitter feed was an experience, she'd say that much.

She loses herself a bit during matches, pausing between them to eat or drink and watch the way Edelgard's position on the couch progressed; from sitting up to leaning on the arm, to curled up, to laying upside down while she commented on terrible plays or stupid players.

"Did they seriously try to edge guard you from halfway across the stage?" she asks at once point, and Byleth wonders how she sees past the table, thinks that she's probably got enough of a view from underneath it, then reaches over after the match ends to poke the exposed line of her stomach.

"Fuc-!" _THUNK._ "Goddammit Byleth!" 

She laughs as Edelgard straightens herself out on the couch, hand rubbing the forehead she'd slammed on the table by accident. "Are you okay?" she asks, feeling a little guilty suddenly.

"I'm fine, it's just my _pride_ ," Edelgard snipes back, pressing into the kiss Byleth drops against her forehead.

Twenty minutes later, two cokes and half a jar of Salsa and bag of chips, Byleth matches with Dimitri again. Edelgard's couch position shifts to laying against her thigh, feet hanging over the arm of the couch. "This is gonna be good," she mutters, and Byleth leans down to eat the chip Edelgard offers her.

She matches with him five more times after the initial one, Edelgard getting increasingly catty with her comments the more they end up fighting him. "It's like he's doing this on purpose," she says as Byleth's character trounces Dimitri's off the map again with a well timed swing. Edelgard's phone pings and she looks at it as the victory screen splashes across their TV again.

" _Who is it that keeps matching with me?_ " she reads, and Byleth snorts. " _I'm gonna beat them I swear_ ," she adds a second after.

"Sure," Byleth replies. "Maybe I'll let him win one."

Edelgard's response is a derisive one, breath huffed out from between teeth. "Why? If you let him win he'll never get any better. Besides his whole humble brag about being so great at his chosen character was insufferable."

Both of them understood being proud of skill, but there was a limit. At least Dimitri only crossed it once, and they were all a little drunk at the time so it had been easy enough to let it go. At least, until now, apparently.

Edelgard leaves in the middle of the next match for another coke and the second bag of chips, dropping one on the table and popping the soda open as she sat back down. She drinks while the entire match devolves into Byleth practically playing with him, almost letting him knock her character off them map before she retaliated over and over until she matched with someone else.

The evening progresses like that, Dimitri's radio silence, Edelgard checking once to see he wasn't playing anything anymore before going off to make dinner and Byleth finishes up the last of the matches she had planned to play that day. 

They're in the middle of said dinner when Sylvain texts Edelgard telling her to check twitter.

Edelgard snorts on her drink, spluttering, coughing and laughing all at once. "Ohmygod!"

"What?" Byleth asks, looking up from her food. "What happened?"

"He broke his controller!" She says, flipping her phone around to show Byleth the picture of the smashed controller the caption reading; _well so much for this controller, time for a new one. What color next?_

Byleth pulls her own phone out as Edelgard types, opening the app and finding the tweet in question, she adds, underneath Edelgard's; _Maybe a soothing one._

_When you edge guard with that character, you actually have to follow your opponent off the map_

Byleth has just put her phone down when the notification pings and she picks it up to another round of Edelgard's uproarious laughter.

_blionpride: THAT WAS YOU?!_


	3. When Our Bodies Wash Ashore (Bloodborne AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Your Gods mean nothing to me," she said, smoothing a cloth across the freshly sharpened blade. "All I believe in is the weapons in my hands and my skill and determination to survive. That's all I need."_
> 
> _"Yet," he said, wheezing laughter shaking him and the wheelchair he sat in. "You come here on the belief we have a cure for your illness."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 7 Belief.
> 
> Old One!Byleth and Hunter!Edelgard. This concept bit me while I was listening to Aviators song 'When Our Bodies Wash Ashore' which I 100% recommend you listen to while you read this! (It's also where the chapter title comes from too obviously)

_"Do you have any particular beliefs, hunter?"_

The words echo in the back of her mind as the heavy doors creak open, old wood and rusted metal protesting the shove of her hands. Her steps reverberate, dust and cracked stone crunching under her boots as she slips through the small opening she creates, torchlight casting flickering shadows across the dilapidated church.

_"Beliefs? No, not anymore."_

"Even the beasts won't go there," another hunter had told her, staring off at the steeple crawling high into the bleeding sky, casting the entire city in a shade of sick red. "No one goes there, not if they want to stay sane."

_"Here you should at least pretend to believe. The Old Ones walk among us just as any of the monsters or humans still sane do."_

_She'd turned to face him then, violet flashing in the dull moonlight, the weapon she tended to wickedly sharp and gleaming. The doll watched, and so did he, head tilting to look at her from underneath the brim of his hat._

_"Your Gods mean nothing to me," she said, smoothing a cloth across the freshly sharpened blade. "All I believe in is the weapons in my hands and my skill and determination to survive. That's all I need."_

_"Yet," he said, wheezing laughter shaking him and the wheelchair he sat in. "You come here on the belief we have a cure for your illness."_

_She'd smiled, teeth sharp and gaze sharper, cutting nearly. "Cures aren't given by Gods, old man, they're made by the hands of humans." The conversation had ended there, trailing off into a silence filled by unsteady breath and the grind of stone over steel._

_"Good hunter."_

_And she'd looked, allowed the doll to take her hand in her own, blank eyes and a calming smile, moon full and nearly consuming the sky above. The dream, she considers, looking over the flowers that blew lazily in the breeze, marking gravestones of hunters past. It wasn't much of one, a purgatory hailed as a safe haven._

_"Be safe, good hunter," the doll spoke, touching wooden fingers to her jaw to draw her attention. She nodded, turning away to depart._

It's quiet, she thinks, turning slightly as the doors thunder shut behind her, descending her into torchlight darkness. And it is quiet, like the sound from before had been sucked out of the room, sealing it in a vacuum space of absolute silence. No whisper of her breath or whining wheeze of her torch, no crunch of stone as she walked between the broken down pews, light spilling in a pool around her that barely illuminated what lay ahead.

Like she'd gone deaf as soon as the doors had shut. The fingers of her free hand close around the handle of her axe, squeezing until she feels the leather of her gloves creak. The hair on the back of her neck prickles with a presence of eyes watching from the darkness, but no beast leaps from within it when her eyes fall in it's direction. She stands there, waiting, thinking she sees a flash of silvery scale at the edge of her halo of light.

It stirs within a sense of existential dread, like a beast from well outside her understanding now moves within the confines of her presence. She moves forward, slowly turning her back on the eyes on the back of her neck feeling to head towards the altar, ascending the steps with that same dread building to a fever pitch of paranoia.

She's being stalked and she can't be sure by what, something that follows on unexplained limbs, deafening her to it's presence, waiting until her guard is down and it can wrap her up and destroy her. She keeps going, keeps walking, hand never leaving the axe at her belt. The church ends in a mirror, a mirror reflecting not the dilapidated space before it but a universe.

A universe in a pane of glass, stars sprawling countless in a great nebula that threatens to swallow her the closer she draws to it.

_The old ones are beings beyond time and space, beyond law or reason. They are what they make themselves not what we make them._

_Kill your Gods, Edelgard. For prayer and belief will never save you._

"Your Gods mean nothing to me," she whispers again, words heard only in her mind. She had faced them before, one after another, traversing nightmare plains and worlds that she barely could comprehend the construction of, let alone the beasts she cut through to navigate them. "Gods aren't Gods if you can bury a blade in their flesh and make them bleed."

She reaches with the hand occupied by her torch, index finger brushing the glass. The nebula moves, pooling around her fingertip like some kind of viscous fluid. The glass cracks, the silence shatters, her breath and the hiss of the torch sounding like a gunshot that startles her back from the mirror. The axe comes free, body turning as she hefts it then stops.

The church, she realizes, is falling apart. Stone cracking much like the glass of the mirror behind her, splintering and falling away only to fade into star dust and drift into the great void slowly being revealed to her. There was no running, she knew, no door to escape from, no Yharnam beyond to flee into and wish for the beasts to cleanse her mind of whatever she was about to see.

Another flash of silver.

The floor gives.

She falls. Falls into the space beyond, into the sky and it's millions of pinprick stars blazing in a backdrop of blues and purples and reds. She feels like she's drowning, like she's being dragged underneath a starburst sea by unseen hands. Falling, Falling, the need for breath burning in her lungs, her vision blurring to grey at the edges. 

Gone.

Silent.

_Hunter._

Her eyes snap open to the sight of water rippling with her breath, but not seeping into her clothes. She disturbs it with the drag of a hand but comes away with nothing, pushing herself up to her feet while the cold of the void seeps into her skin, wriggling in through the heavy leather of her duster coat and vest and dress shirt underneath, digging into her pants and her boots and shoving sharp underneath till it digs into her very bones. She shivers, but breathes no smoke.

The nebula stretches out for miles underneath her feet, ever shifting, color after color easing in and out like the tide of the sea. Yharnam sprawls overhead, bending at the edges like the glass of a bowl, it's Gothic buildings seemingly reaching for her, begging for her to return to it's hellish streets and it's chaos.

_Hunter._

She looks, eyes drawn to the horizon of this upside down world. The void she hears both welcoming and alien all at once. 

_Come to me._

And she goes, water splashing underneath her feet but never onto her boots, and she goes, walking for what feels like hours, days, weeks. And she goes, following the whispers and the phantom fingers that pull at her lapels and her belts. And she goes until the city sky blackens and the nebula ground casts it's light to lead her. She goes until a temple seemingly constructs itself around her, until she reaches the the throne in the center of it, water rippling out from her boots to bounce off the steps, returning to her in an echo ever going.

Something sits atop the throne, something she can't look at without pain spiking into her skull and leaving her nauseous and half blind. So she focuses on the stone instead, listens to the being as it shifts, skin hissing, breath heaving. She thinks she sees it in her mind's eye, scales a smooth opalescent silver, a great arrow shaped head decorated with a dozen eyes and great twisted horns, teeth like saws just waiting to sink into her bones. Great flesh like wings stretch out as the beast stands to greet her, talons sinking into the stone underneath.

_I have longed to see you in person, hunter. Look upon me now._

She looks up and only a woman remains in it's place, sea foam colored hair brushing her shoulders and a robe like the nebula outside adorning her body. Her eyes bleed black, hidden behind a stained bandage, hands and feet both sporting the holes of one crucified.

A martyr upon a cross.

_You look at me with fear, but I am not your enemy._

She's bewitched, entranced, confused. A pressure building in the back of her skull that becomes a migraine ache as the woman descends the steps towards her. She falls to her knees at the being's feet as the pain becomes too much to bare, as cool hands find her fevered cheeks and caress gentle, loving.

_I am the outcast among the Gods of Old. The one who stands to save humanity from it's plight, but I cannot leave this realm without a link, without a body to carry me across the borders of time and space itself._

_Will you help me, hunter? Will you walk the pale blood path with me at your side?_

"Yes."

She wakes in the dream again, stone digging unforgiving into her back and the doll looking over her. "Good Hunter," she whispers, kneeling down to cup her cheeks. "You have been blessed by the daughter of time."

Somewhere a bell tolls and a clock begins to tick.


	4. You Let Me Violate You (Silver Snow But Hegeleth)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She starts at the sound of Dorothea behind her, the warmth of her hand on her bicep grounding her and dragging her back from the riptide of her mind. "Sorry," she says, low, averting her eyes. "I was just..."_
> 
> _"Thinking about Edie?"_
> 
> _"Yea," she replies, nodding, looking over her shoulder at the rest of the class and the knights gathered with her. There's a difference in the way they look at her, Dorothea's expression is much like she imagines her own, much the same as every other member of the Black Eagle house still following her instead of the Emperor. Devastated, quietly determined, questioning._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 5. Taste. 
> 
> Hegeleth ANGST, tail sex...oral sex, some minor breath play. I DIDN'T HOLD BACK MUCH WITH THIS SO UH HAVE FUN.
> 
> This is also weeks later then I intended but boyhowdy ya girl got sidetracked.

They've made a mistake and she knows it, keenly aware of the painful ease with which they get into the palace and move through the halls. No guards, no staff...no resistance whatsoever. Just eerie silence and charged air, electric and stinging, raising the hair on the back of her neck and goosebumps across her skin. "There's something wrong," she whispers and behind her the soldiers with her stop. The students and knights all exchanging glances.

All of them are as aware as she is, all of them know that their enemy -- Edelgard, she thinks with an ache that twists harder in her chest -- has some kind of plan. A plan that try as Byleth might she couldn't figure out. In all the time she knew the now Emperor, Edelgard had always been the hardest to read. She had opened up and told Byleth things

she vowed never to forget.

Yet. 

Yet she had still made the choice to turn her back on the younger woman and she wishes now she hadn't. Wishes she had chosen to take the hand the other woman had offered her both proverbially and physically. There's a piece of Edelgard she's missing now, the puzzle of the other woman forever incomplete and in turn it leaves Byleth's own incomplete. The two of them with the proverbial holes in their chests, staring at one another in the tower.

Edelgard's last attempt to get her to join, pleading, voice breaking faintly at the edges despite the stern way she looked at her. The way Edelgard had seemingly cut a part of herself out the second Byleth tried and failed to respond, the violet of her eyes sharpening, her expression closing off into something far off and cold. The final moment of hesitation by both of them, blades to each other's throats and eyes locked, more things said in that moment then their words could ever convey.

She wishes she had gone to her when Edelgard requested to see her, when she told her she had something she needed to show her. Something she had to tell her, but the chaos of the monastery had kept her away, ate up her time until it was far...far too late for her to discover the full truth of what was going on. It left her torn apart the second the mask came off, the second Edelgard revealed herself as the Flame Emperor.

The piece she had been trying to fit fell away then, breaking her down and shattering a part of her with it. Gutted, hollow, the pain almost as horrid as when her father died in her arms. 

_What did you want to show me._

She'd never know now.

And she hated herself for it.

"Professor?"

She starts at the sound of Dorothea behind her, the warmth of her hand on her bicep grounding her and dragging her back from the riptide of her mind. "Sorry," she says, low, averting her eyes. "I was just..."

"Thinking about Edie?" 

"Yea," she replies, nodding, looking over her shoulder at the rest of the class and the knights gathered with her. There's a difference in the way they look at her, Dorothea's expression is much like she imagines her own, much the same as every other member of the Black Eagle house still following her instead of the Emperor. Devastated, quietly determined, questioning.

Catherine's expression is set in silent determination, and she sees something similar on each of the knights, on Seteth and Flayn's faces, but in them she sees some semblance of sadness as well. None of them really want to be here doing this, facing down a woman they once called 'friend,' facing down the woman who Byleth held more feeling for then she originally believed.

_She reached for her, fingers outstretched as she watched Edelgard walk away, begging her to turn around but unable to get the words out. Why had she frozen up? Why why why--_

She hears something from behind the heavy throne room doors, a voice, gasping quietly in pain. Something twisting, wet and snapping. She almost doesn't want to know, almost doesn't push the doors open, hand heavy against the polished wood and metal. She listens as the gasps turn to grunts, to swallowed groans and bit out growls.

The howl that follows is chilling, a human voice warped in an inhuman throat.

Grieving something lost.

"Someone lost," she whispers, closes her eyes, fingers curling tight around the handles to the doors. "Edelgard..." She shoves them open, pushing through the gap she creates and listens as they thunder off the walls and drag the attention of the--

Her breath stops, catches hard in her throat and saws hot and sharp in her lungs at the sight awaiting them. Edelgard -- or what she thinks is Edelgard -- kneels in the center of a pool of blood and gore and ruined clothes, skin warped coal black with sinewed muscle and sharp scale. Spikes like armor branch from her shoulders and her forearms and crawl down her back, ending in a tail that lashes agitated gashes into the floor. Crimson eyes fixate on her, pooled in onyx, a glasgow grin cut into her face like scars. She reminds Byleth of a great Dragon, cursed into a half human form.

"So you've come," Edelgard says, voice reverberating, rumbled and chipped like weathered metalwork. 

Her jaw works, useless, eyes tracing over the horns that curve vicious and elegant along the top of her skull in complement to the gold of the crown now chipped, one horn broken and falling away as she rises to clawed feet, the marble giving way as they dig in to hold her balance. Her wings flare, spreading, stretching, then resettling back along her spine.

She was beautiful, she was terrifying.

Byleth reaches for her again, holding her hand out, words caught in her throat like the breath she can't find. Edelgard looks at her like she'd been stabbed, eyes wide and lips parted slightly, tail curling over the top of one foot. "It's time," she says, the shock bleeding away into something else, something closed off and harsh. "Time for you to attempt to do what you came to do. I will not hold back this time, not for you, or anyone with you."

There's no pity there anymore, those great wings spreading, claws gleaming wicked in the sunlight spilling through the throne room windows. "Come! I will strike you down so fast you'll have no time to regret!"

"I've been regretting," Byleth rasps, unable to draw her sword. "Since the Holy Tomb..since you asked me to come see you and I didn't. I've had all the time in the world to regret." She doesn't lower her hand, spreading her fingers, inviting the potential for death that meets her eyes. 

"I'm so sorry...Edelgard, I-"

"Don't. I gave you a choice and you made it, do not think you can lay down your apologies at my feet and expect me to accept them!" But there's something about her voice, something broken and hanging, a line of impossibly sharp teeth flare as she grits them, skin and muscle drawing back. "Fight!"

Byleth can feel the eyes on her back, the expectation for her next move. Waiting for her strategy or her orders. But she doesn't give them, pulling her sword from her belt only to throw it down on the marble between them. "I can't," she says, shaking her head. "I won't."

"Professor!" 

She ignores them, ignores the choked protests of the students and the knights. "You want me, right?" she asks, stepping forward, both her arms extended. "I'll give myself up to you, but let the others go, okay?"

Edelgard's eyes jump from her to the people behind her. " _Go_ ," she whispers, rearing back, scales catching the light. "I will spare you this once. Should you return I will not afford you the same kindness."

She doesn't need to look to know no one moves, all of them staunchly loyal and foolish, some of them looking for someone she knows is somewhere here. She turns when Edelgard growls, low and furious and reverberating. "Get out of here," she says, waving her hand. "I'll be fine, even as angry as she is I know she won't hurt me."

"How do you know that?" Catherine demands, worried, maybe angry, probably both.

"Because if she wanted to, I'd be dead. Now _GO_!"

They hesitate, movements slow and jerky and unsure, but eventually they begin to depart.

Edelgard roars, and Byleth wheels around in time to brace for the impact of the larger form. Both of them going down hard onto the tile, claws leaving furrows in the marble, catching her wrists and pinning her there when she tries to grab her. She's inches from her now, snarling, crimson eyes burning bright. Byleth doesn't resist, muscles going slack in her hold, eyes slipping closed in acceptance of whatever may happen.

The door slams, and she thanks whoever it was that kept them all going, that kept them all from flooding back in to try and save her when she didn't want the help. Seteth, she figures, knowing that above all else he would take care of things in her stead. 

"My teacher..."

She opens her eyes, looking up at the face so close to hers. A hair's breadth. "I'm here," she replies, smiling, slight, sad. "I'm here...I really am sorry..."

"Please, do not continue. I-" And her chest heaves, eyes squeezing shut and teeth setting. Byleth watches her wrestle with the emotion that threatens to overwhelm her, struggles with her own as tears burn in the corners of her eyes. "Why?" She let's her go as she speaks, rising up slightly to look down at her sprawled out underneath her.

"Why? Because I didn't listen when I should have. I didn't give you a chance when I wanted to. I froze up." She lifts her hands as she speaks, touching fingers to her jaw and her cheeks. "This is my fault." Something shifts underneath Edelgard's skin, the splits of her cheeks melding back into smooth flesh, the line of wickedly sharp teeth dulling back to something human.

"Don't say that," Edelgard says, and Byleth slides her fingers carefully across scales, evading the spikes on her shoulders and her back, curling hands around the back of her neck. "I don't blame you for my fate, I chose this-"

Byleth kisses her, hard.

She doesn't know why, questions herself immediately after their mouths collide and she hears Edelgard suck in a breath through her nose. Thinks that maybe she should pull away and apologize, blame the stress and the lack of sleep and return to trying to talk all of this out. A claw curls around the back of her head, carefully cradling it as Edelgard returns the kiss, and Byleth pushes into it more, presses closer to all that scale and sinew and risks herself harm from it.

It doesn't matter if something cuts her, it would heal and a little pain was a small price to pay.

Edelgard is the one to break it, pulling back and breathing, tongue sliding over her lips. "Professor-"

"You've won this little confrontation," Byleth cuts in, shaking her head. "The others will free Rhea, but they'll no longer have me. I bet you can turn the tide of this war back in your favor too, if you really wanted to."

For a long moment Edelgard contemplates her, studying her face, trying to find a lie or a trick that isn't there. Her eyes narrow, tail flicking behind in a display of the consternation she tries to hide. Byleth knows she's thinking about the reports, trying to figure out what the hell it is Byleth is really up to. She watches her crumble apart with the failure to pluck it out of her mind or out of Byleth's expression.

"No tricks, I'm telling you the truth. I'm yours, Edelgard."

It feels good to say it, feels like she's slotting that missing piece of herself back into place.

"Even if I'm nothing more than a monster now?" The other woman asks, and Byleth catches a horn to keep her from withdrawing, holding fast, knuckles brushing across her hair.

"You're not a monster, a monster would have blindly attacked and killed all of us without warning, a monster would have gone out in the streets and killed everything in it's path until it was put down. You're still human underneath that, a human mind, a human heart."

Again. Again it looks like Edelgard doesn't believe her, the conflict playing out in the way her eyes flick across her features, how her lips move and how her claws twitch. She knows she's still caught between the logic that tells her Byleth is a threat and the emotion that wants to believe Byleth is telling her the truth. She slides her fingers down the horn still in her hold, drawing her thumb across the base of it and watching the way Edelgard's eyelids flutter with the touch, lips parting faintly.

She does it again, enjoying the feel of the large body above her shuddering with it, tail hissing across the stone as it moves. And again, her other hand lifting to mirror the first, tracing gentle circles and watching, smiling faintly as Edelgard crumbles a little with each touch, leaning heavy on her claws and rumbling out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a cat's purr. She's not sure how long she keeps doing it, the motion mindless and soothing, lips curling into a lazy smile as Edelgard leans closer and closer over her until her breath tickles hot across her cheek. Until she turns in and kisses her again, slow and exploring, her fingers going from touching to gripping again, to holding her there and losing herself in the way Edelgard melts into it this time. There's no surprise, no tension, no clear want to draw back and question.

Edelgard kisses her with every emotion she had suppressed and Byleth can taste her sadness and her anger as much as her passion and her love. She swallows it all down with the sharp prick of teeth against her lip, and with the touch of claws that are both gentle and careless, curling her up in an embrace she willingly presses in to. She doesn't think much of the claws that press so close against her scalp, or the ones that press against her hip. She just wraps her arms around her in response, fingers trailing from the tips of her horns down across the back of her neck. She's mindful of the spikes, touch glancing across the first few that start at the base of her neck.

And Byleth clings to her, clings to her while she puts all her own emotion behind the push and pull of their kiss, puts her sorrow and her regret, puts her love and her need. She pushes herself closer until their bodies are nearly molded together, one leg thrown around her waist. There's no telling where one ends or begins, and Byleth prefers it that way, her fingers sliding across armor and sinew and listening to the way Edelgard rumbles low in response.

They break briefly, breath drawn and eyes meeting. "Are you sure?" Edelgard asks even as she draws in again, even as Byleth tilts her head to meet her. 

"Yes," she whispers, pressing a kiss to her jaw, to her cheek, to the corner of her mouth. "I want this, I want you. I don't care what form you're in." This time the kiss is like two women drowning and desperate for air, like two women determined to devour one another in a pact of mutually assured destruction. She parts her lips on another bite and moans when Edelgard's tongue fills her mouth. It's more then she expects, her jaw forced open a little more and her body tightening around nothing at the idea of it inside elsewhere, as she drags her tongue along the side of it, as she sucks on it and whimpers at the moan Edelgard swallows down. She let's her press it deeper until the tip teases at the back of her throat and Byleth can barely breathe, tears burning at the corners of her eyes out of reflex. 

Then she's gone, withdrawing and leaving Byleth sucking in another breath, body heaving up against the solid line of the Demon above her. She hears something tear a second later, feels the pull of fabric tightening against her skin before giving way to the claws that she feels flexing against her. She doesn't complain, not when Edelgard kisses her again, not when that tongue invades and fills her mouth and her throat and leaves her breathless and sucking on it until the other woman shudders hard and tears through what's left of her clothing, the shards of it pulled off her body as the other woman pulls away from her. It leaves her dazed and disorientated, stone cool on fever hot skin, body singing with a need only Edelgard can sate.

She shivers, fingers digging in to the armor on her shoulders, focus blurred. " _Edel--Edelgard_ \--" she mumbles, berating herself for being this turned on after just a kiss, already wet and throbbing. But what a kiss it was, her hands shifting until she's coiled them around the back of the other woman's neck, gasping when something mobile press against her clit. It takes her a second to realize that it's Edelgard's tail, bucking when it strokes across her once, twice, and a third time, thin to thicker and constantly moving. The other woman's mouth fits over her neck just as the tip of her tail presses inside of her, teasing, making her rock her hips in an attempt to force it deeper inside. Teeth prick against her skin as Edelgard sucks a mark there, growling low in her throat and giving her what she wants, more of her tail filling her inch by inch until she can't anymore. She feels full, clenching down around the tail inside of her and shuddering when it presses against all the right spaces.

Edelgard moves it, flicking parts of it and making her jerk and buck, gasping out moans each time. " _Fuck--! Edel--Fuck me, don't tease me_ \--" Byleth almost regrets her words, feeling a smirk curve against her skin seconds before Edelgard starts to thrust her tail, in and out and as deep as she can get it each time. It's both too much and not enough, eyes rolling closed as her hips rock to meet each rough thrust, mouth falling open as her tongue runs hot against her neck and her collarbones, teeth sinking in to mark her more and more, claws sliding across her sides and her hips and her ass all without nicking skin. She clings to her and feels helpless to do anything in return beyond moan and whine and cry out, spine arching as a tongue runs hot over her nipple, coiling around her breast briefly before a mouth closes over the hard nub and _sucks_.

She thinks she could come like this, shuddering as a claw traces the bowed line of her spine and makes her shiver in time with each jerking thrust of her own hips. She thinks she could come like this, being fucked hard and fast by a tail with the potential danger of being torn open by too sharp claws and blunt teeth.

Edelgard could kill her and she'd thank her before her breath left her body.

Her nails dig as Edelgard moves from one breast to the other, as her claws find her hips and hold her still while her tail keeps moving then stops, shoving entirely inside her, leaving her clenching around it, drooling and whimpering for more.

"You've left quite a mess here," Edelgard grinds out, and Byleth can't be assed to do more than look at her. To see the angle of her eyes to know she's looking down between them. "All over the floor and my tail." She's absolutely hanging, nerves strung out and the burn in her gut at a fever pitch. She knows she's dripping wet, hardly needs to be told and she reaches up to yank at a horn in response, watching the way Edelgard's expression twitches into vague annoyance before smoothing back to something hungry.

"I want to taste you," Edelgard rumbles, a predator's grin sliding across her face before her tail withdraws and Byleth whines her frustration at the sudden empty feeling. She catches sight of the fluid glistening on Edelgard's tail as the other woman moves, watching it as it lazily swishes in the air as claws curl around her ass and lift her hips up, her teeth sinking into the inside of her lip as that tongue runs hot against her clit and through her folds, lapping up everything Byleth had to offer. 

" _Oh Goddess, Edel please--please--_ " She scrambles, hands fitting around her horns as her claws flex against her ass, as Edelgard buries her tongue inside her and fills her all over again. It's shameless, she thinks past the daze, grinding against the other woman's face as she fucks her with her tongue, back arching at how hot and thick and slick it was, moving in and out with a skill Byleth had no idea Edelgard possessed. She's relentless, knowing just how to keep her hanging until she was practically sobbing, clinging hard enough to her horns her nails bite into her palms, words an incoherent slur of the other's name.

Edelgard brings her with a shout, body jerking and shaking, heels digging hard into the edges of her shoulder blades, hands never letting up their hold on her horns even as she writhes and twists and returns to grinding on her face as Edelgard fucks her through the remainder of it, pulling out each and every spark until Byleth collapses back against the floor in a helpless heap.

Only then does she withdraw, lapping up every bit of her she can get before she sits back, tail swishing, eyes narrowed with a self satisfied smirk that makes the heat burning in Byleth's cheeks even hotter. They stay like that for seconds, then minutes, breathing, Byleth recovering, then Edelgard moves, pushing up to her feet and disappearing from her line of sight.

She can hear her as she goes, the sharp clack of her talons against the floor as she walks away, then back. Her eyes slip closed as Edelgard wraps her up in a familiar cloak, lifting her off the floor and cradling her to her chest. "Sleep now, My Teacher," she murmurs, pressing her lips to the top of her head. 

"I'll keep you safe."

Byleth sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I already described Demon!Edelgard in detail in Half Light but when I wrote it at the time I hadn't finished Half Light and I couldn't be assed to go back and change it here so...eh.


	5. Long Shadows Lure You In (Bloodborne AU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 6 Safe
> 
> This is a sequel to "When Our Bodies Wash Ashore." 
> 
> (Like I said on twitter this is eventually going to become a full fic.)

" _You're safe here._ "

The cogs creak a melody above them, great and thundering in a way that would be deafening if it weren't for the being's hold over the entire area. She can look up through the cracks in the clock face, through the rafter work and the spinning gears and see the nebula above, stretched blue and purple and filled still with the same now familiar stars.

"Am I?" she asks, reaching up to trace her fingers through the latticework of stardust hanging in the air above them. They dance with the motion of her fingers like summer fireflies, spinning between her fingers and flaring brighter to the beat of her pulse. She can feel their warmth through her glove, suddenly reminded of dusk on her family's estate, of running through the great field behind the house with her siblings disturbing the sea of fireflies and sending them scattering like a thousand living stars.

She wasn't safe there, wasn't safe during the war, during the plague. She wasn't safe in Yharnam, couldn't feel safe in the Dream where she was supposed to be, viewing it more as a cage, a limitation on her otherwise clawed for freedom. "'Safe' isn't a word hunters often use, because we know otherwise." She had met other hunters who thought much the same; a woman with eyes the color of deep woods and the man who was always at her side, the two of them fighting side by side or back to back, moving like extensions of one another in a dance meant for one.

The woman had looked at her with a sadness Edelgard couldn't understand, spoke in a tone that called upon experience. _"Never believe you're safe. Because as soon as you do you're as good as dead."_

At the time it was common sense, walking a town where blood pooling in the streets was a common sight and the people were more beast then man, insane in their delight of attacking her, of calling her the monster and leaving her wondering who was what. She'd sat there by the great fire among the bodies in the dirt turned mud by the gore spilled during her struggle watching. Watching and wondering, wondering if she was the monster, if this was all some great hallucination and she was murdering innocent people she merely perceived as beasts.

It had twisted her up until the old man at the workshop had told her not to think too hard about it, had told her to just...hunt, to just kill. 

That it was for her own good.

" _I understand your apprehension_." And she looks to the being now standing beside her, nebula-robe settled elegantly around her frame. " _I am, after all, a being you're supposed to hunt and kill._ " Black blood drips off her chin but never stains her clothes. Dripping, dripping, dripping in a constant beat, like the almost woman beside her was always weeping. Crying over her fate, over the plight of humanity, over something Edelgard may never be able to comprehend. " _But, please, please give me a chance to prove to you that you are safe here. That you're safe with me._ "

She had agreed to this madness without hesitation, almost laughing at herself now that she'd suddenly found her previously lost apprehension. "A chance," she replies, because it would be foolish to spite another purgatory haven, another place to hide and lick her wounds when she didn't wish to return to the dream. Would be foolish to spite the being she had agreed to help without so much as a sideways glance. The being smiles, so subtle, so ghost like Edelgard believes she would have missed it had she not been looking right at her.

" _I'm glad. You need only come to the clock tower, the stars will guide you back here to me._ "

The clock strikes the hour, and the bell thunders above them. She opens her eyes to the streets again, the distant wails of beasts reaching her ears as she looks around, as she looks to the clock tower in the distance and wonders again, again, again.

She goes, stardust clinging to the heavy leather of her coat, glittering dully in the bleeding light of Yharnam's sky.

She returns to the dream, gathers supplies, retreats again under the watchful eye of the doll, of the old man in his wheelchair. She doesn't speak to either of them, stopping only to kneel down a give a messenger a child's toy she'd found. The gravestone she uses sends her to Byrgenwerth, finds her standing by the lantern outside the university, lingering in the mouth of the forest maze she'd traversed.

The creatures there see her with her stardust coat and look at her not like prey but like a God, shying away from her or dropping to their knees as if in prayer to the deity she'd linked herself to. She asks herself if perhaps they do have some sentience, asks herself if they've seen some hallucination of the being following in her shadow. She doesn't question the blessing of peace, axe left hanging on her back, sword left cradled in it's sheath on her belt, flintlock strapped across her chest.

Only her torch is removed, lit, held aloft to illuminate the great library as she slips through it's doors.

It's how the messengers find her hours later, torch balanced in a makeshift holder, books and scrolls scattered countless in a spiral pattern around her, looking up every single time a sound seeps in from outside. She can hear them, scraping at the heavy doors, inhuman throats sputtering hissing chatter that makes shivers climb her spine like marching ants. She retreats up, up the staircase and up higher still, up into the observatory and it's rafters, perched with her selection of books stacked beside her. 

The messengers join her as she lounges across the aged but still sturdy wood, ankles hooked together, book propped between her hands. They climb onto her thighs, on her shoulders and settle, chattering and brushing at her lapels and her belts and the ornaments that adorn. She lets them, reminded starkly of how they had saved her the night she arrived, tired and aching, lungs filled to bursting with disease.

Had she traded one for another?

She reads until her eyes burn, until the messengers begin to pull at the book and obscure her ability to make sense of the words on the pages. 

" _They're worried._ " She looks up to find the being standing before her again, balanced elegantly atop the beam like a practiced tightrope walker. Her fingers are folded, palms pressed together as if in prayer of her own. " _When was the last time you slept?_ "

Fits and starts propped in a corner away from fresh corpses, shoved deep into shadows among ruins to make sure she was hard to see, curled deep into the beds of flowers in the dream, senses plagued by their sweet scent and the nightmares that dwelled within her mind. "Well? Not for a long time." 

The beings lips draw in a frown, eyebrows twitching down with it, furrowing. She wishes, and not for the first time, to see her eyes. Did she have any? Where there just black pits behind that bandage? Or would she see a small nebula contained within them, midnight blue and sparkling.

She thinks she remembers dancing with a woman with night-sky hair and eyes to match, of gracefully weaving between other pairs in a great stone hall stretched high above them. She thinks she remembers herself cloaked in black and gold, caustic red flashing out of the corner of her eye as they spun.

Laughter, the warmth of a forehead against her own, of a hand against her shoulder and the fingers entwined with hers.

"What's your name?" she whispers, peering up at the being, at the blackened bandage and the tears that remain permanently etched into the lines of her face. "Do you have one? Or do I just call you 'Daughter of Time.'"

The being considers her for the longest time, lips parted, brow furrowed in thought. Seconds stretched to snapping, silence interrupted only by the lake lapping against the rocks far down below where they where. " _I used to have a name_ ," she replies finally, head lowering on the motion of an averted gaze. " _But it became meaningless._ "

"I still want to know it," Edelgard says, shutting her book and slowly rising to her feet, messengers scattering as she does. "I can't just keep saying 'being' or 'you' or 'Daughter' all the time. Not when you actually had a name."

The other woman's smile is deep and unfathomable, but Edelgard can feel the grief radiating off her in waves. " _Byleth,_ " the being replies, the name sounding as though it had been wrung out of her by unseen hands, plucked from the depths of her and left to bleed between her lips.

"Byleth," she parrots, the name alien yet familiar. "Then that's what I'll call you from now on."

She sleeps tucked in the corner of the clock tower on a makeshift bed, curled underneath her coat and lulled to dreaming by the creaking cogs and the gentle cadence of Byleth's voice as she hums.

Perhaps, perhaps she felt safe.


	6. The Cadence Of Steps (Bloodborne Crossover)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"In the meantime she paints, fingers dipped in starlight tracing across paper. She paints vague memories, dreams, starlit voids her mind wanders when the scientists are poking and cutting and asking questions she has no desire to answer. Her body aches, and sometimes she paints with the black blood oozing out of untreated wounds. It's more violent then, scratched out figures twisted like beasts, shadows of faces that bring a sickness rising in the back of her throat._
> 
> _"I think I used to be human once," she whispers when she hears Maria's boots tread into the stardust bleeding between the cracks in her cell floor, a sharp splash through fluid that doesn't stain. "But I can hardly remember it." She watches it pool around the toe of the hunter's boot, swirling colors and dull light. "You're early," she murmurs, lifting her gaze to the hunter's face."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 8. Shoes
> 
> 'Bloodborne again' I hear you thinking, yes. But this one is different as in Lady Maria is a heavy presence in this, it takes place in the past before Byleth and Edelgard meet. I'm thinking I might move all the Bloodborne related stuff to it's own collection when I've got enough so I don't clutter the bloodborne tag, so this chapter might not stay here long. 
> 
> Anyway this features; hurt/comfort (kind of) mentions of unpleasant medical procedures and hints to the backstory of the actual main part of the upcoming fic. AND ANGST, God a lot of angst.

She learns to recognize her by her shoes, steps precise off blunted heels, ringing in short echos against the stone she walks across. She learns to recognize them all by their shoes, by the heavy steps of the church 'scientists,' the feather-light taps of the choir women. Lauerence with his slight limp or Gerhman, almost as precise as Maria but too heavy off the toe. She learns what time it is by who it is coming to get her, Maria in the mornings and evenings to bring her food, the 'scientists' mid-morning, choir women only ever on Sundays.

In the meantime she paints, fingers dipped in starlight tracing across paper. She paints vague memories, dreams, starlit voids her mind wanders when the scientists are poking and cutting and asking questions she has no desire to answer. Her body aches, and sometimes she paints with the black blood oozing out of untreated wounds. It's more violent then, scratched out figures twisted like beasts, shadows of faces that bring a sickness rising in the back of her throat.

"I think I used to be human once," she whispers when she hears Maria's boots tread into the stardust bleeding between the cracks in her cell floor, a sharp splash through fluid that doesn't stain. "But I can hardly remember it." She watches it pool around the toe of the hunter's boot, swirling colors and dull light. "You're early," she murmurs, lifting her gaze to the hunter's face.

Her eyes are dull today, shuttered off behind the wall Maria keeps up between herself and the world at large. "They were rough with you today," she says by way of explanation, voice low and quietly soothing. She enjoys the quiet cadence of the hunter's accent and the gentleness with which she speaks. She knows it's reserved for her and Laurence, and she wonders what she had done to earn this softer side of the other woman.

She decides it's preferable to the cruelty of the others. "It's nothing that won't heal," she replies, gaze falling back to the nebula's swirl. "If it will help your people..." she trails off, looking up to meet the storm blue of the other's eyes, surprised to see the blaze of kindled anger.

Not at her.

"It does not give them the right." Softly, furious. "You...you do not deserve any of this treatment." Her steps splash hues of blue and red as she cross through the nebula puddle and sets a leather bound bag down on the bench beside her. "I am trying to convince them to find another way." There's no real hope in the edge of her voice, eyes lowered as she pries the bag open to get at the tools inside. She moves with Maria's gesture, a single flick of fingers asking for more space.

She gives it to her and watches as she works, laying out a towel a set of tweezers and a needle, thread, bandages and bottle of something that reminds her strongly of the lab. Maria hesitates to touch her only once, hand held out and head tipped in a silent request for permission. She grants it, gently resting her hand against the open palm of the other's, relief settling inside of her when she doesn't pull away. Maria never flinches away from her, never recoils when her fingers brush against her. She never has, and it never fails to shock her.

Because everyone else does. 

Maria is the only one who gets close without a reason, who sits with her while she paints and doesn't ignore her when she tries to start a conversation. She treats her like a person and she had almost forgotten what that was like. She gives credit to Laurence and the Choir women for trying, but she knows they see her as some kind of God. In a way she supposes she is, something once human, only to become something else and something else again. She can't be sure what she is now, the times and the powers shifting to adapt. She can't be sure she remembers what she was either.

"You only ever speak to me," Maria begins, eyes and hands steady as she stitches closed a particularly nasty cut on her arm. "Why?" She's gentle enough, adept enough, she hardly notices the prick and pull of the needle as it enters and eases through her flesh. For a moment she watches, looks at the way the rubber of the gloves Maria put on to treat her stain black at the fingers with her blood.

"You're the only one who looks at me like I'm human," she says, reaching out to touch the strands of silver hair framing the edges of Maria's face. "And you remind me of someone I think I used to...hold dear." She looks at the lacing of Maria's boots then, cut off below the knee and impeccably tied, perfectly put together like the rest of her.  
Only once has she seen the other woman in disarray.

It's a memory that sticks out in the sea of her thoughts, a memory of looking down on dozens of people from on high, still sleep addled and groggy. Among them all Maria was the only one who looked up at her, was the only one who could meet the many eyes that fixed on her without recoiling in agony, without blood seeping out of her eyes or her mouth or her ears like the others.

She met the storm blue of those eyes, saw the fear and the awe all at once and when she lowered herself to their level, Maria was the one to step up to her, to extend a hand and rest it against her snout. She was the only one to speak, to ask her if perhaps she understood what she was saying. She remembers people spitting a term at the other woman she came to learn as something derogatory from the way Maria flinched; _Vileblood._

And she heard them talk about her with that term almost constantly, both when Maria was there and when she wasn't. She never asked, but always saw the subtle pain in the tension at the corner of her eyes and the clench of her jaw. It bothered her but she never protested it.

At least, not that she heard or saw.

There's a small part of her that yearns to ask, to learn just a little bit more about this woman who has decided to take care of her, but she's desperate not to push her away. She wants, needs, to keep her close. 

And it is selfish.

She shifts as Maria does, leans and proffers limbs when prompted, lets her get impossibly close and peel back fabric to reveal more cuts and bruises and old scars she can't remember where or how they got there. She watches as Maria kneels in the nebula pool between her feet, fingers curling against her calf to focus on a gash cut into her inner thigh, the liquid pools opalescent violet around the other's knees, stars swirling flash fire bright against the heavy cotton of her pants.

It never stains, Maria never looks at it to question why it doesn't seep into her clothes.

She never had, not even when she first came in contact with it. 

The door groans and she raises her head, eyes finding the shoulder of a church doctor. 

"Vileblood," he says, sharp, like an order. "What are you doing?"

Maria looks in half, head turned and eyes angled. "Making sure she does not die," she replies, voice dull and edged. "Since none of you seem fit to be able to do it." She returns to her task without further comment, as if daring the man by the door to try and stop her.

"The church will hear of this, Vileblood."

"The church hears of everything," Maria drawls in reply, head turning again, eyes flashing dull in the torch light. "But I am not the church's to command." It would get back to Gerhman, they both know, and Maria would still suffer a kind of consequence for her actions, but it never would quite stop her.

As much as she knew Maria respected her teacher, she didn't agree with all of his views. She had heard them arguing in whispers and in shouts, she had heard him storm away before Maria came in with her morning meal. She had heard her outside with Laurence before too, conversations low, sometimes heated, sometimes worried. 

The church doctor leaves, door slamming heavy behind him. "I'm sorry," she whispers, reaching out to touch gentle fingers to Maria's jaw. "You really shouldn't have-"

"I am not yours to command either," Maria interrupts, staring up at her from underneath the angled brim of her hat. "I will deal with my consequences and I will continue to care for you after the abuse these monsters put you through."

_All in the name of...what?_ She hears the other woman whisper as she leans back in to finish her stitch. 

They don't speak after that, the silence between them comforting despite the dread hanging over them.

"Where did you learn to stitch like that?" She asks finally, arm held out as Maria winds a bandage around it. 

"A doctor friend," Maria replies, flicking a glance up at her. "She told me that if I was going to come in wounded all the time I should learn how to do it myself just in case she wasn't available." Maria's smile is subtle yet it warms something in her with how genuine it is. "Now she says hardly any hunters come to see her anymore."

"Well, she can focus on the civilians now," she replies, leaning away as Maria shifts to clean her tools and pack them away again. "I would think that would be a small blessing."

"Small," the hunter hums, rising to her feet. "I suppose with this...mess about to unfold I will be unable to bring you your meals for a few days."

"It's alright, I understand."

The other woman lingers for a moment, guilt heavy in the shine of her eyes and the set of her shoulders. 

She leaves when footsteps sound from the opposite end of the hallway, door thudding shut behind her.

An argument erupts a moment later, harsh, whispered, retreating with the steps of boots she knows as Gerhman's and Laurence's, Maria's falling in their shadows.

Slowly she lays down as the door at the end of the hallway slams shut, closing her eyes.

She dreams.


	7. Tail End Confession (Time Loop AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I think..."_
> 
> _And she looks between the two of them, spectating a discussion turning into something vitriolic. Rhea where she stands, hands folded in front of her and knuckles white from her grip. Edelgard where she sits, arms draped across the back of the pew, foot set against a knee._
> 
> _The perfect picture of nonchalance._
> 
> _"You're lying."_
> 
> _She sees more than Rhea does, sees the facade that Edelgard wears to hide her true nature crack. Obsidian horns and the languidly flicking tail, violet eyes burning dull in the cathedral's evening light. She doesn't know when this is, or what they were talking about. "_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 29. Tail
> 
> Archbishop!Byleth and Demon!Edelgard. Basically Edelgard died and Byleth reversed time to save her, but while it worked both of them are now stuck in a repeating time loop with all their memories intact. They're making the best of it, but sometimes Byleth's memories run together and get scrambled. (Hence the random scene switches.)
> 
> Includes tail sex, breath play, blasphemy, my usual brand of shit talking, switching and a major major helping of oral fixation. It's messy.

"Well."

_Clack._

"Well."

_Clack._

_"Well."_

She thinks she's dreaming again here, with her face pressed into the cradle of her hands. 

_She thinks she's back, knees soaked in the blood pooling around her, clinging to the body of a woman who barely breathes. The woman speaks but she can't hear the words, her ears deaf to anything beyond the pound of her pulse, beyond the cold shock and sick terror burning hot and acidic in the back of her throat. Please please please, she whispers, don't die._

"Our esteemed Professor."

She thinks she's dreaming again, fingers pressed into her eyes until starburst patterns burn across the lids. Her breath shudders out as a sigh, her head aches, screams, throbs. Fingers not her own thread into her hair, gentle, digging relief into her scalp.

_"I think..."_

_And she looks between the two of them, spectating a discussion turning into something vitriolic. Rhea where she stands, hands folded in front of her and knuckles white from her grip. Edelgard where she sits, arms draped across the back of the pew, foot set against a knee._

_The perfect picture of nonchalance._

_"You're lying."_

_She sees more than Rhea does, sees the facade that Edelgard wears to hide her true nature crack. Obsidian horns and the languidly flicking tail, violet eyes burning dull in the cathedral's evening light. She doesn't know when this is, or what they were talking about._

"I never thought I'd see you praying."

She thinks she's dreaming again, hands sliding away from her face as she lifts her head to look up at the figure standing inches away from her. "Edelgard," she breathes, like one would to a God. Yet she knows Edelgard is anything but, the moonlight filtering through the cathedral's stain glass windows casting her in blue hued shadows, eyes burning bright and intent with promise. 

"Hello, My Teacher." 

It's a relief of a different kind to see her, throat aching and eyes burning with the tears she swallows down. "You're here." It feels like a hallucination, something ethereal and dark. A dream ready to shatter as soon as she moves to reach out and lay her hands against arms, eyes fluttering as the finger's tangled in her hair slip down to cheeks, to her jaw, leather cool against her skin.

"I never left," Edelgard replies, thumb tracing across Byleth's bottom lip. She tastes the leather in it's wake, eyes fixated as the shorter woman leans over her, leans down enough to kiss her. Hands cradle her jaw, and her own lift to clutch Edelgard's forearms, to slide higher until she hits warm skin and warmer lips. 

Edelgard's tongue burns where it slides across the seam of her lips and Byleth parts them without question, moaning breathlessly as the other woman licks into her mouth and devours her, desperate and gasping. Byleth threads her fingers into her hair as they kiss, coiling them around the horns that decorate her head. She holds her there until her lungs burn, until her head feels light and saliva runs heated down her chin, threads of it holding them together as she breaks away for air.

And she's right, she thinks, tracing her fingers down from her horns to her lips, thumb sliding easy into the heat of Edelgard's mouth, she never left. The two of them trapped in this endless loop of making amends. She blinks back to the feel of Edelgard's tongue against her skin, watching as her lips close around the trapped finger and suck. She urges lightly with her free hand around the back of the other's neck, tugging until Edelgard kneels in front of her, eyes dark with need.

It's a sight that brings her own need painfully to the forefront of her mind, body clenching around nothing and clit throbbing faintly with the desire to be touched. She trades her thumb for the index and middle, sliding them in along Edelgard's tongue and smearing her thumb against the skin of her jaw, teeth clenching as she watches the way Edelgard's head tilts with the new angle, lips and tongue working against and between her fingers.

"You're beautiful," she whispers, jerking the second Edelgard's tail finally slides against her thigh, dipping between her legs. She feels like a blasphemer suddenly, knees sliding apart as she rises up on them to drag her tongue along the hard line of one of Edelgard's horns. She waits to be smited as she takes hold on the second, as Edelgard moans around the fingers in her mouth and they both shudder with the sound.

Edelgard's tail inches higher, rubbing across her over her shorts until Byleth can grind on it, moaning against the horn she lavishes kisses against. She feels it as it curls around her waist, as Edelgard's hands find her hips and guide her as she grinds, slow and torturous.

"What will we do?" Edelgard whispers against the tips of Byleth's fingers, teeth a sharp prick. "When everyone comes in for morning prayers?" She knows it's coming up on that time, the blue of night fading to the gray of early morning. "They'll be furious if they catch us here, locked in such intimacy on the floor of their holy ground."

Byleth lays one last kiss against the base of the other's horn, legs spreading further as she lowers herself back down to her knees, as she bites at the gloved tip of the thumb Edelgard presses to her lips in return. "The confessional," she rasps, eyes nearly rolling closed as Edelgard's tail shifts, and presses just at the right angle. "We can go there."

"Will you confess your sins while I pleasure you?" Edelgard asks, leaning close enough their lips brush as she speaks. "Or will you call out to the Goddess instead?"

_"She's trouble," they whispered and Byleth saw it from the moment she laid eyes on Edelgard. Could see it in the undercurrent that wreathed her like a shadow, with her sharp smiles and her silver dipped words. She was trouble, stirring up rumors and playing harmless pranks._

_She thinks she's dreaming again, staring down at the pages of her notes and trying to make sense of the words she'd written on them. Feeling the eyes of her students on her._

_She looks up in time to see the smile Edelgard hides behind her fingers, tail flicking lazily between her feet._

"I have no sins I want to confess," Byleth replies, placing a clumsy kiss against Edelgard's mouth, teeth pressing into her lip. "No sins I can be forgiven for."

"I forgive you anyway," Edelgard says, thumb dragging across her lip again and this time Byleth catches it, runs her tongue across the leather and pulls it into her mouth.

Edelgard kisses her even with it in the way, trailing her lips across her jaw and down, teeth digging hard into the edge of her neck. It's not a mark she can hide she thinks, spine bowing, eyes rolling closed as pain gives way to pleasure.

To a stronger need. 

It's not a mark that will fade.

"Edelgard, Edelgard--"

Her tail shifts, the tip pushing underneath the waistband of her shorts and sliding down across her pelvis to her clit. It presses, rubbing across too sensitive skin, punching a keening moan from her. Her hands scramble, catch on shoulders and dig as Edelgard's tongue soothes the mark she'd bit into her flesh.

Blood stains her lips when she pulls away. "Now they'll know," Edelgard whispers, thumb slipping down her jaw as Byleth kisses away the evidence, tasting copper and leather on her tongue. "Now they'll know," Edelgard repeats, keeping hold on Byleth's jaw and watching.

Watching as Byleth reacts to the way her tail moves against her, the thrusting slide threatening to drive her mad. 

"That you belong to me."

_She knows she's dreaming this time, breath hanging half drawn in her lungs as she looks at the woman lazing against the foot of Serios' statue. Edelgard watches her like a God waiting for a devotee's prayer._

_"You're trouble," Byleth says instead, shivering at the way the other woman looks at her. Her lover, her world--_

_Her heart. "And I love you for it."_

_Edelgard's smile is both wicked and adoring._

_"I love you too."_

_Byleth doesn't regret her choice, knows she never will._

_Even if the woman she fell for is a Demon._

She smiles against the other's jaw as she kisses it, kisses down across the pale expanse of her neck to the edge of her uniform collar. "Always," she says, dragging her hands down from her shoulders across Edelgard's breasts. "I'll always be yours, because there's no where else I'd rather be."

Both freeze at the sound of voices outside, muted but rising. Edelgard withdraws as Byleth stumbles unsteadily to her feet and both of them hurry into the nearby confessional as the heavy doors swing open. The door clicks shut behind Edelgard and Byleth has half a second to think before the other woman is on her again, invading her space and pressing close against her back.

"Can you be quiet, my teacher?" She whispers against her jaw, fingers gripping at her tights until they rip and her tail slips in through one of the holes made. "Or you really will have some confessing to do."

"We both will," Byleth mutters, forehead pressed to the polished wood.

"But I'm not the Archbishop," Edelgard replies, dragging her tongue along the shell of her ear. "I'm just the 'supposedly dead' Adrestian Emperor."

Byleth is sure neither of them know what loop this is anymore and neither of them care, not so long as they're together. 

"Sleeping with ghosts," Byleth quotes, eyes rolling closed as Edelgard's tail finally teases across her clit again, as her hands wander across her chest and along her stomach. "Sleeping with demons."

"Tainting the name of the Saints," Edelgard adds as she runs her tail through the slickness of Byleth's folds. Her tights rip more, and Byleth thinks that both them and her shorts are ruined soaked through with her arousal and the tail spreading it.

"El _please_ ," she mutters, rocking into the teasing slide of smooth scale. "All this teasing is going to kill me." She can feel Edelgard smile against her pulse, hand coming up to press against her mouth to muffle her moan as Edelgard's tail finally slides inside of her, deeper and deeper until she's properly filled with it.

"Is that better?" Edelgard murmurs, thrusting it in and out of her without ever fully withdrawing. "Do you enjoy being filled by my tail as much as you enjoy my tongue or my fingers?"

She doesn't want to think, only nodding as she rocks her hips to meet each of Edelgard's thrusts, whimpering as the body behind her moves easily with her. She can hear the service outside, voices muted in prayer, priests leading. 

She is a blasphemer and the thought makes her clench around the tail inside her, makes her reach back to grab hold of one of Edelgard's horns again, keeping her close, keeping her pinned perfectly to her back, face pressed to the edge of her neck. The thought of all the people out there unaware of them in here heightens her pleasure, heightens the tingling sing of her nerves and the tightening heat pooling in her gut.

She's a sinner of the worst kind, leading the world in a dying religion that she has no belief in.

Until the next life, the next try.

"El, El, El," she whispers in her own prayer, jerking and shaking as hands slide, pushing into her shorts to roll fingers across her throbbing clit, the other rising higher, curling around her throat and squeezing just enough to restrict her breath. "Oh Goddess, _Edelgard_ \--" she wheezes, writhing in her hold. " _More_ \--"

And she gives her more, thrusts her tail faster, harder, deeper, fingers gripping until spots dot her vision and her mouth hangs open, hips juddering in failed attempts to keep pace. She leans heavily into her forearm, pressing her face into the bend of her elbow as tears burn at the corners of her eyes. Edelgard's hold on her throat eases and the rush is what breaks her, what forces her to bite down her sleeve and keen, bucking and arching against the body behind her.

Edelgard fucks her through it, teeth in her shoulder, pulling and picking and leaving her at the mercy of each spark of pleasure that jolts harshly through her nerves.

They still as the choir crests and drowns out Byleth's gasps for air, her whimper as Edelgard's tail withdraws and smears her release all down her thighs even worse then it already was. There's no point in trying to fix herself up, she thinks, sucking in another breath and turning on the shorter woman behind her.

There's no bother thinking she can be presentable as she walks back to the room they both reside in, she thinks as she corners Edelgard against the wall and kisses her, hard and biting, shoving her tongue in her mouth when the other woman's lips part around a half taken breath. Edelgard meets it with her own, tangling them as they take turns swallowing down one another's gasping moans.

Byleth stops thinking again when she slips her hand down Edelgard's shorts and presses her fingers to slick skin. "You're soaked," she whispers against the other's lips, biting at them teasingly. "Dripping, just like me." And she doesn't wait for a response to press her fingers inside the other woman, two, then a third, letting Edelgard press her face to her shoulder to muffle herself as she starts to thrust her wrist. 

She curls her fingers, running her tongue along the base of the horn nearest to her and feels as Edelgard shudders against her, whimpers sounding trapped in her throat, hips rocking to meet each thrust of Byleth's hand. Edelgard clings to her, fingers digging into her back and tail coiling around her ankle, pressing herself as close as she could get without restricting movement more then the small space of the confessional already did.

Byleth closes her mouth over the edge of the horn she pays attention to now, licking and sucking right where she knows is the most sensitive. Over and over until Edelgard is practically sobbing her pleasure into her shoulder, fingers digging hard enough into her back it aches.

She sets her teeth against her horn, jaw flexing, fingers curling until her palm brushes against Edelgard's clit with each thrust. She feels the moment the tension in the other woman crumbles, the trembling line of her body becoming an arched, shaking mess, and Byleth claims her mouth again to greedily swallow down her moan, shivering as the other's fingers find her face and tangle in her hair. She holds her there until Edelgard slows, until she stops and pulls away.

Byleth gives her a second, a minute, watching as Edelgard's chest heaves with her attempts to catch her breath again, then withdraws her hand, bringing it to her lips to lick them clean. She only gets halfway before Edelgard joins her, the other woman leaning back into her space and running her tongue up along the finger Byleth hasn't gotten to yet, their tongues grazing yet again.

" _Fuck_ , Edelgard," she whispers, resisting the urge to put the other's mouth to more use then just on her fingers. "If we had more room..."

"Shame, that," Edelgard replies, licking her lips and staring up at her. "We have to wait."

"I'm sure we can find something to do in the meantime."


	8. By Strings Animated (Control AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"And she sees her frequently, constantly, flickers of red leather and torn blue jeans out of the corner of her eye. Remembers her from days at school and in the park, of playing soccer with and against her. She almost thinks she remembers her face, smiles less sharp edged and more warm, bubblegum popping and late night conversations held from tree branches and windowsills._
> 
> _It takes her a month to fully understand the point of the room with all the papers and the pictures, a month spent doing a battery of tests and talks with a therapist she's sure doesn't really care about her well being so much as what she might have for lunch that day. She asks her about the girl in red, Byleth tells her lies. She doesn't know why they're so interested in her, in the girl whose name she can't remember anymore, but whose voice haunts her dreams."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 11. Paper.
> 
> I've been sitting on this for a while, for anyone who hasn't played Control, don't worry cuz this story is pretty entirely separated from the actual game story-line. I just borrowed elements from it. If you have well, it's just a little extra treat for you.

The papers tell a story. The history of a woman whose face she's never seen the entirety of, red ball cap always pulled down low over her eyes, lollipop hanging out of the corner of her mouth, smile sharp edged. 

The papers tell a story. Talent held in soccer and horseback riding, pictures clipped from games and shows, ribbons of all kinds and a case of trophies. But none of them still ever show her face, her head always held at an angle to keep from sight.

Every. Single. Picture.

And she sees her frequently, constantly, flickers of red leather and torn blue jeans out of the corner of her eye. Remembers her from days at school and in the park, of playing soccer with and against her. She almost thinks she remembers her face, smiles less sharp edged and more warm, bubblegum popping and late night conversations held from tree branches and windowsills.

It takes her a month to fully understand the point of the room with all the papers and the pictures, a month spent doing a battery of tests and talks with a therapist she's sure doesn't really care about her well being so much as what she might have for lunch that day. She asks her about the girl in red, Byleth tells her lies. She doesn't know why they're so interested in her, in the girl whose name she can't remember anymore, but whose voice haunts her dreams.

The scientists come and go in the in between, and she's left alone the rest of it. Allowed to wander so long as she's in the company of a few guards whose own faces are hidden by helmets with soulless stares and monotone voices. She wonders if they do it on purpose, or if they're really some kind of robot built by the some hidden division Byleth doesn't know about. When she thinks about it, she realizes she doesn't know a lot about this building that changes and repairs itself.

She overhears stories of rooms disappearing and reappearing, hears stories about people that go missing and turn up days later in another completely different part. She hears them whisper and bitch and complain and wonders if one day the building would shift her room into another part, would she end up with a shark or a million sticky notes? 

(They pass by the office with the countless sticky notes, blindingly yellow with every surface covered, a couple of baffled agents standing in the doorway exchanging confused words and helpless laughs.

No one ever elaborates about the shark tank.)

Byleth isn't sure she actually wants it to happen, glad the building seems content to leave her alone aside from a few disappearing objects and books she's mourning the loss of but can't exactly go out and look for. She tried asking, but she was always told to 'wait, they'll be back eventually.' Or 'Someone will stumble across them, don't worry.' They hadn't yet, and Byleth had stopped hoping and started accepting she probably wouldn't ever see those things again.

So she doesn't read as much anymore, and her room is spartan beyond what the building drops on her. There's a dozen pencils, someone's coffee mug, and files with so much blacked out she can't make sense of them. Someone's office chair and an old computer monitor that occasionally floods her room sickly green in the middle of the night. They always end up back there even when the cleaning staff take them out whenever she's out of her room and elsewhere in the building. The staff still keep cleaning.

It'll be no different today, she tells herself, standing between her guard detail as the elevator dings down floor by floor. A few people will go in and clean up her mess of nonsensical scribbles on the paper given to her by her therapist, done with one of the dozen pencils constantly scattered like landmines across her floor.

It'll be no different today, she tells herself, watching the doors open and waiting until one of the guards with her steps out first and gestures for her to follow. The staff is all in the usual hurry today, coming and going or sitting at desks and shouting for or at interns Byleth feels bad for.

It ends up different, she realizes as the door to the room labelled 'P7' slides open and reveals the director herself standing in the middle of it, the agents that usually tend to the pictures and the papers and the files all at their desks, watching. Byleth has never met the director before and she's unsure if she should leave or stay, trying to make the choice before the taller woman notices her.

"What do you find so interesting about this room?" The director asks right as she's decided maybe she'll leave, the tone of the other's voice freezing her mid-step, eyes darting to the guard beside her. The guard shrugs, gesturing in a way that tells her to answer. She has no choice and she knows it, Byleth isn't a staff member with a high enough clearance to tell her it's classified and she's sorry but she can't explain it right now.

She's an experiment.

"The woman in the pictures," she replies, whispered, eyes lowering to her bare feet. "She's familiar." It's as honest as she always is, refusing to quite explain the why whenever she's prompted (and she's always prompted; 'why is she familiar, do you know her?' with a dozen other questions slapped on she doesn't know the answers to, wouldn't share if

she did.)

She finds the Director's eyes on her when she looks up, pale green to match the tint of her hair, held back in a severe bun. Suit form fitting and stare empty, yet soul piercing. The other woman looks at her, through her, studying every inch of her in a look similar to the way the scientists do with their instruments. Byleth looks away, focusing on the white board that contains a few new pictures she hasn't seen before.

They're following her, she realizes, looking more closely at them. She sees the woman in the red leather jacket and baseball hat through shades of a life on the run. Outside a coffee shop, a convenience store, kneeling down to pet a cat that's in the middle of twining around her ankles, visor still hiding her eyes and her nose but her soft smile on display. There's a picture of her brawling with a would be mugger, teeth white and sharp and fist cocked mid swing, blood stark on her pale skin. On the subway, arm wrapped around the pole she leans on, head tilted in a way that spoke of sleep. In a bookstore, kneeling beside a shelf, book cradled in her hands. In a grocery store, stocking shelves and cleaning floors, hair tied back in a ponytail and face turned away from the camera.

'Don't interact.' Is scribbled in tilted handwriting across most of the pictures along with date, time and location, notes on health and daily movements.

('Don't touch.')

"Why are you so interested in her?" Byleth asks before she can stop herself, staring at the last picture she sees pinned to the board. The woman is facing the camera, staring into the lens like she'd seen the photographer, lip curled back in a furious scowl, a single violet eye peering out from underneath the visor of her hat. Byleth wonders if the photographer had to run after snapping that picture, imagines the woman in red chasing after them to find out why.

Why, why, _why._

"Because she's special," the director says, closer, the sounds of her steps muted on the plush carpet. "Like you."

The words churn something ugly and acidic in Byleth's stomach and she fights to keep control of her face, to keep the scowl threatening to split her normally impassive mask hidden underneath her skin. "Special," she parrots, proud of the way of her voice stays just as dull and monotonous as the guards behind her. "So she's another experiment." It's not a question, because the answer is a resounding 'yes,' with the entire room serving as evidence.

"Neither of you are experiments," the director assures, and Byleth knows a lie when she hears one, even coming from the calm, soothing tone of the other woman's voice.

"You're candidates, but only you have begun to receive training."

She doesn't think any of this is 'training.'

It's not how she defines the word.

"Right," she replies, lips pursed around a frown. "Okay." She's not even sure what she's training for but any time she asks no one tells her anyway. The director leaves a moment later with a nod and a quiet smile, heading out of the room and into the chaos of the division outside. 

Byleth sits cross legged on the floor where she always does, staring up at the pictures and the papers with their information and their stories and she chases shadows of memories until the guards tell her it's time to go back.

\-----

A week crawls by, filled with more tests and more questions and Byleth spends most of it thinking about the dock she used to fish on. Sitting at the end of it while the water lapped at her bare feet and the woman in red laid on the wood beside her, arms folded behind her head and eyes closed.

Byleth drowns in her memories.

\-----

She's left alone in a room with a dozen other people, the staff alternating from the weekly to the weekend to keep watch on all the permanent residents. Byleth sits in a corner nearby where the TV drones through another episode of an in house production that's more fuel for nightmares then a proper children's show. The puppets are uncanny, the voice acting is haunting. She finds it hard to believe the people that made this didn't do it on purpose to terrify the younger generation into behaving.

None of the children there actually watch it, all of them huddled around each other and playing. 

Byleth draws with another building supplied pencil, letting the hours bleed together until someone comes to get her.

\-----

The world tilts on it's axis when people start to question the director and lead researcher's sanity. Hanneman comes through with strange devices and hysterical warnings to put them on and not take them off no matter what happens, then vanishes again like some sort of ghost.

He goes through the entire building, she hears one of the therapists talking about it. Hears one of the soldiers wonder if it's some silly lead in to one of his big announcements. But the air about the building has changed, charged and suffocating like the heavy air before a thunderstorm. The people are more jumpy and quieter, always looking over their shoulders and whispering to one another.

The building shifts a strange stone into her cell that night, black and glittering like hematite and something in the back of her mind tells her to hold on to it. So she does, falling asleep with the stone clutched tight in her hands.

She wakes up to a world dyed in red, the structure around her twisted and alien, the whispers nonsensical and echoing. She doesn't understand why the scientists who usually watch her room are suspended in the air, contorted and lifeless, lips moving, repeating.

Repeating, repeating, repeating.

_Repeating, repeating, repeating--_

The whispers burrow into her skull like needles, pricking and peeling away the layers of her mind. Fingers brush across the recesses of her memories, rearranging her like a child's building blocks. She pushes them out, closes herself off and hides in the corner of her room. Fits herself underneath the desk when the monsters come, twitching and weaving like puppets on strings.

Like the puppets from the TV show.

**_(Repeating, Repeating, Repeating--)_ **

Like a broken record, a song stuck skipping and distorted and Byleth veers from indifferent of it to hating it. Catching herself mouthing the words even when she covers her ears and buries her head against her thighs, rock pressing sharp into her forehead. 

**REPEATING, REPEATING, REPEATING--**

By the third day she's screaming, bloody furrows dug into her cheeks and her biceps, tears burning molten and dripping off her chin and nose. She screams to block them out, loud, hysterical, burbling into laughter and hiccuping into sobs. Over and over and over until she tastes blood on her tongue and her chest burns and her voice doesn't come out as more than a broken rasp.

No one comes to get her.

By the sixth day she's listless, lips moving like the others, blood drying and cracking on her skin and under her nails-

Repeating.

_Repeating._

_**REPEAT--** _


	9. But You Can't Escape Me (Threesome)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Professor, I have no good way to say this..." He starts and her eyebrows raise higher, weight tipping back into her heels slightly. It's obviously not something too terrible, because he seems more embarrassed then he does grave. It takes her an extra second to notice Ferdinand nearby, looking equally flustered, hands folded behind his back and eyes fixed firmly on the wall._
> 
> _"What-" Byleth starts, bewildered. "What did you two do?" And what did it have to do with Edelgard?_
> 
> _"A...spell I was testing backfired."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 20 "Hands."
> 
> Feat. Byleth sandwiched between two Demon!Edelgards. Double Pen, anal, sex toys...messy. just very very messy. 
> 
> Another adventure in challenging myself to write things I don't usually write.

There's a problem and she's clued in immediately when Hubert stops her in the hallway outside the room she shared with Edelgard. She's still not quite used to the way her breathing changes with the quicker beat of her heart, her fingers twitching and her eyebrows raising to mask her own discomfort. It mirrors Hubert's own.

"Professor, I have no good way to say this..." He starts and her eyebrows raise higher, weight tipping back into her heels slightly. It's obviously not something too terrible, because he seems more embarrassed then he does grave. It takes her an extra second to notice Ferdinand nearby, looking equally flustered, hands folded behind his back and eyes fixed firmly on the wall.

"What-" Byleth starts, bewildered. "What did you two do?" And what did it have to do with Edelgard?

"A...spell I was testing backfired."

Byleth's eyes slide to Ferdinand, and her eyebrows threaten to vanish into her hairline. "Uh-huh." It doesn't take much for her to put together how it backfired, her anxiety easing a little in favor of annoyance. "I thought I taught you both better than that." 

"It's not like that!" Ferdinand stutters, cutting Hubert off and invading his space. The other man frowns darkly at him, clearly displeased at the interruption but allowing it only because of who it was. "I was merely asking Hubert to tea later! There was nothing untoward going on!"

Byleth immediately dismisses the thought, eyes widening and focus stuttering to a stop somewhere over both of their shoulders. Nothing, nothing she wanted to ever know or see or think about. "So," she says finally. "This spell backfired, and?"

"It hit Lady Edelgard as she was walking by outside--"

"She is fine!" Ferdinand interjects before Byleth's panic can get the better of her, heart in her throat and muscles primed to bolt past them both. "She just....the spell has..."

"I think it's better if I just see for myself," she says, cutting them both off, hands held in the air. "But...thanks for the warning I guess." As half assed as it was, it was certainly better than nothing. She steps around them and heads down the hallway towards the doors, ignoring both men as they decide to leave her to whatever her fate was.

She sees double, and she stops in the doorway, hands still pressed to the polished wood. She blinks, looking down at the floor and wondering if maybe it was a side effect of her heart beating as wildly as it had. Maybe she was dizzy and had simply accidentally put her wife in two different spots because of it. But that's not the case when she looks back up, perfectly clear headed and still seeing two of Edelgard.

There's nothing inherently wrong with either of them, both sporting the same gold painted horns and the plated crown that was designed around them. One sprawls on the bed, naked save said crown and the gold collar of her outfit, tail lazily flicking and eyes slitting open to look at her.

The other sits at the only desk in the room, fully clothed but dressed down, staring tersely at the paperwork she's somehow still working her way through. It clues her in on which one was the result of the backfire. "So this is what they meant," she says, pulling both of their attention fully. One smirks, the other looks concerned, eyes flicking from Byleth to her mirror on the bed.

"I...I'm not sure what happened myself," the Edelgard at the desk speaks, pushing up to her feet. Byleth is momentarily distracted by how undone her dress shirt is, hanging open all the way down to her sternum. It highlights the starburst scar there and ends up drawing her eyes as much as the naked version still on the bed. "One moment I was walking, the next I was flat on my back with another...me laying beside me." 

"And Imagine my surprise," the other drawls, sliding off the edge of the bed. "Suddenly in the middle of a hallway in my own palace when I was originally getting ready for bed."

"It was....a lot."

It takes her a moment to absorb the offered information. Figuring that the backfired spell somehow pulled an Edelgard from a different point of time here, now, and it makes her wonder just where and what was going on there. All she knows is that she imagines the her of that point would be worried when her Edelgard didn't show up.  
Unless something different happened.

"Okay," Byleth says, pinching the bridge of her nose to try and stave off the headache starting a dull beat in her temples. "Okay. So we have to figure out how to get the other you back-"

"Oh Hubert is already working on it, he swore up and down he would fix the error as soon as we got back there." The other Edelgard is suddenly too close, and still very...very naked. Byleth's pulse kicks up with the beat of her heart, heat burning across her cheeks. 

_You'd think by now I'd be used to the sight_ , she thinks doing her best to keep her focus on her Edelgard and not the Emperor inches away from her and wearing a wolfish grin. _It's just because there's two of them. I guess._..She leans away a little, looking for something else to say.

Edelgard's eyes flick from her face to the mirror of her, frowning. "You could take this a little more seriously," she says to her other self, frown deepening when the other woman simply laughs a little and shrugs.

Helpless. Making the best of a really weird situation.

Byleth can get behind that or...between it as the case may be.

_Wait--_

"If you haven't noticed, I have nothing to do until Hubert fixes this mess so...we might as well make the best of the time." Her tail swishes as she speaks, slow and curling and Byleth knows exactly what it means on her Edelgard, wonders if it means the same on the Emperor.

"We?" She looks back to Edelgard, to the agitated flick of her tail and the blush staining her face. 

"We've both been thinking about it the entire afternoon, you can't deny it. All that paperwork was just a distraction. I know, I've done it too."

Byleth jerks as warm fingers find her bare stomach, tracing the edges of her abs. "Wait, what?" she says, brain finally catching up to the situation at hand. "Thinking about what--" her voice catches as Edelgard steps into her space, hands running over her tights. 

Oh. "About double teaming me."

The Emperor's laugh is a familiar kind of salacious, and Byleth feels her as she presses up against her back, pushing her closer to Edelgard in front of her. It's dangerous like this, being sandwiched between two people, hands everywhere, picking away at her clothes. She's divested of them faster then she's used to and she allows it in favor of catching one of Edelgard's horns, sliding her fingers down it and feeling the way the other woman shudders against her before she pulls her into a kiss. It's like drowning, she thinks, hands everywhere, touching every inch of skin they can reach. She moans into Edelgard's mouth, fingers clutching to the open collar of her shirt as Edelgard's tongue slides against her own, the kiss becoming something messy and devouring.

Lips trail along her neck and hands dip across her hips and inner thighs as the Emperor behind her continues her exploration unhindered. Byleth can only cling to Edelgard as the Emperor's fingers inch higher and tease through the course hair, as Edelgard's hands cup her breasts and roll thumbs across hardened nipples. She moans, breaking away from the kiss and arching between them. Edelgard wastes no time, lips pressing to her chin, tongue running hot over her pulse, against her throat. Byleth's fingers find her lips, pressing into her mouth and Edelgard lets her, closing her mouth around them and sucking as Byleth licks her horn, as she reaches back with her free hand and clings to one of the Emperor's horns, rubbing her palm against it until she hears a familiar rumbling moan from them both.

It's hard to think past the flood of arousal burning through her, hard to think past the fact that she's soaked enough she's dripping, the slickness of it staining the inside of her thighs. Her clit throbs, her body clenches, her fingers tighten around the horn in her hold, press deeper into the slick heat of Edelgard's mouth. 

"Please," she rasps, hips rocking, seeking something other than the teasing she's gotten so far. "Please touch me," she whispers, eyes slitting open to watch as Edelgard releases her fingers, dragging her tongue against them once more before trailing kisses down her palm, teeth scraping against the meat of it. The Emperor's mouth is on her shoulder, tongue and teeth and hands replacing Edelgard's when they slide away from her breasts, squeezing and rolling now too sensitive nipples between fingers until Byleth whines and arches, bucking hard between the two of them.

"Fuck--I ca--" 

The Emperor growls, teeth sinking hard into the back of her neck hard enough it makes her knees weak, held up only by the hands on her hips and on her chest. "We should give her what she wants," The Emperor drawls, soothing the sting of teeth with the heat of her tongue. "Fuck her until she can't walk." She can only see Edelgard, watches the way she peers over her shoulder at The Emperor, considering.

"You know where everything is," Edelgard says and Byleth can feel The Emperor's smile against her skin.

"Of course I do," Then she's gone, and Byleth nearly collapses against Edelgard, clinging to her as the other woman kisses her again. Byleth returns it better, mind a little clearer with only one pair of hands and one body pressed against her. It's all teeth and tongue, saliva dribbling hot down her chin and smearing against Edelgard's.

She buries her fingers in the other's hair, sliding thumbs across her horns and greedily swallowing the moan Edelgard lets out. She gets her hands on her proper, peels Edelgard out of her clothes bit by bit and runs her hands across her skin, touching, rubbing fingers along the hard line of her abs. She breaks the kiss and trails more down the side of her neck, teeth sinking into the line of her collarbone. Edelgard jerks, fingers digging into her hips.

"Why don't you two come over here." 

The sound of The Emperor's voice distracts her, drags her back and makes her shiver as she catches sight of the toy settled between the other's legs. A second sits on the bed beside her and an open bottle of oil rests easy against her thigh. Edelgard doesn't need to be told twice, and Byleth hardly needs much prompting, both of them making their way over. She lets The Emperor guide her as she clumsily crawls up onto the edge of the bed, turning when prompted and shuddering as she kneels over The Emperor's lap. She watches as Edelgard climbs up after her, pressing close enough she can feel the other toy against her thigh. It slides easy with how wet her thighs are and she arches as slick fingers circle her ass, one pressing inside her slow. "Try and relax," The Emperor rumbles, and Byleth struggles past the odd sensation.

Edelgard distracts her with another kiss, distracts her by sliding her fingers inside of her. Two, then a third when Byleth whines and presses against her hand, silently begging for more. More. "That works too," The Emperor says, gently working her finger in and out of her ass as Edelgard, buries her fingers inside her and them. Lips find her throat and her back, hands sliding as twins along her thighs and hips.

She takes hold on them both, keeps The Emperor's head hostage against her shoulder and Edelgard pressed against her throat as the two of them work her open, a second finger sliding in beside the first, the stretch a slight burn that's counteracted by the palm rolling against her clit.

Edelgard's teeth fit against her throat, biting down and sucking until she knows there'll be a bruise there. And she keens with it, hips rocking with the thrusts of hands and insistent fingers. The Emperor bites another mark into her shoulder, tails sliding against her legs. She relaxes more until she feels like little more then putty trapped in the hands of artists who knew exactly what to do. Hands withdraw, and Byleth lets herself be moved, be lifted bodies pressing in close as she's lowered again. She feels The Emperor slide home first, inch by inch and it leaves her struggling not to tense against the press, the odd sensation from before coming back, but Edelgard keeps her from dwelling on it too long, sliding inside of her with a single thrust of hips.

And for a second they're all still, breathing shot, all of them shuddering. Byleth feels fuller then she has ever before, stuffed to her limit and still wanting more. "Move," she mumbles, half coherent, whining when The Emperor's hands shift to support her better, to hold her legs open as the two of them do what she asks. She doesn't let go of her hold on their horns, feels as Edelgard's fingers find her the join of her hips and legs and hold. She moves with them the best she can, rolling her hips to meet each of their thrusts, nails digging and moans loud. She can't muffle herself, she thinks, gasping and whining and crying out as the two of them match their pace and thrust harder, faster, merciless. 

"El, El, El--" she chants it when she can form the words, chants it between keens and gasps and arches. She writhes between them, strung out higher and tighter, muscles burning and nerves an inferno waiting to consume. She hears them underneath her, growling, gasping, moans shuddering and hitching. She feels too much, each slide of the toys inside of her, each impact of hips.

She watches out of the corner of her eye as Edelgard and The Emperor watch one another, then look up at her. Violet eyes blown dark and skin flushed with arousal and exertion, silver hair plastered to their faces and shoulders. Byleth struggles to hold out through it, to weather the constant motion. Her eyes roll closed the closer she gets to breaking, spine bowed, every inch of her trembling with tension. She comes with a broken shout, bucking up hard between the two bodies keeping her pinned, hands slipping off horns to dig at biceps as she writhes and shakes, moans broken up and hiccuping as both of them fuck her through it. Fuck her until she comes off her high, until pleasure and adrenaline give way to exhaustion so bone deep she can hardly think.

They still, and for the longest time no one moves, Byleth fighting not to doze off between them. She hardly notices when they move her, hardly notices when she's laid down and tucked into bed with perfect care.

She's out before either of them join her.


	10. The New Heretics (SuccubusxVampire Half Light AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"The song shifts and so does the lighting, dimming enough to pull the audience's attention to the dancer on stage. Edelgard knows what she is immediately just from the sight of her horns and the thin, sinuous tail coiled around the pole behind her. Her wings, she assumes, were hidden away with magic. Lust Demon, she thinks, leaning her head on her hand and taking in the sight of her, Succubus to be exact. The outfit the other woman wears covers just enough to give the overactive imagination something to fill in. One shoulder bare, fabric dipping to expose the swell of one breast, and curving around underneath the arm._
> 
> _It's not much, she realizes, cloth likely cotton with the way it flows when the other woman moves, hips swaying to the beat of the music. Her eyes catch on the flash of thighs with each sinuous roll of hips, the slit high enough she can see a hint of the leotard she wears underneath and the carved line of her ass. It's elaborate and simple all at once, ornaments and belts accentuating eye catching spots on the Succubus' body."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 69 "Sex." (There is no actualy 69'ing in this I know missed opportunity don't judge me.)
> 
> Succubus!BylethxVampire!Edelgard. I borrowed hella heavily from In The Half Light so if you haven't read it there are some very minor spoilers that probably won't make sense without the context of the story, if you have well. ENJOY THIS FILTH.
> 
> Enjoy it either way, I hope.
> 
> Biting, blood drinking (so much blood drinking), tail sex, shit talking, oral. It's my usual mess of smut.

Stepping into Shambala is like stepping into a high tech dreamworld, blue lighting running like veins through walls and floors and ceilings, casting the smoke drifting through like the mist over a calm sea. But that was the point of it, lulling guests into a relaxed state with almost hypnotic music and slowly pulsing lights. She's not here because she wants to be, she's here because she has little choice in the matter, playing entourage to Rhea for a meeting she had no part in. So instead she finds herself down on the floor by the VIP bar, lounged in a booth and watching the slow sway of dancers.

There's a mix of a dozen different types of people, anywhere from humans to Demons in human shape, mingling, dancing. It's a mess as it always is in places like this, a mess she's gotten so used to thriving and navigating through she hardly notices it anymore. Until she's like this, away from it all, drink in hand, eyes ever in motion. 

The song shifts and so does the lighting, dimming enough to pull the audience's attention to the dancer on stage. Edelgard knows what she is immediately just from the sight of her horns and the thin, sinuous tail coiled around the pole behind her. Her wings, she assumes, were hidden away with magic. Lust Demon, she thinks, leaning her head on her hand and taking in the sight of her, Succubus to be exact. The outfit the other woman wears covers just enough to give the overactive imagination something to fill in. One shoulder bare, fabric dipping to expose the swell of one breast, and curving around underneath the arm.

It's not much, she realizes, cloth likely cotton with the way it flows when the other woman moves, hips swaying to the beat of the music. Her eyes catch on the flash of thighs with each sinuous roll of hips, the slit high enough she can see a hint of the leotard she wears underneath and the carved line of her ass. It's elaborate and simple all at once, ornaments and belts accentuating eye catching spots on the Succubus' body.

All the spots one would stare at naturally.

And stare she does, glass tipped against her lips going forgotten in favor of the sight before her. The succubus moves like one expects, slow rolls of hips, hands wandering across exposed skin and teasing just a little more, flash of a hipbone, the sharp dip where hip meets pelvis. Her tail remains coiled around the pole as she grinds back against it, body sliding down to her knees before she crawls back up to her feet, hands on the metal and muscles shifting as she goes. She twists slow, climbing the pole and spiraling around it like a serpent, contorting her body with a practiced ease and rolling every inch.

It's as hypnotic as the atmosphere, a sin brought to life in a dream.

A few people toss money up onto the stage as the Succubus continues to dance, lowering herself into a back bend off the pole before pushing back to her feet. Her tail flicks in the air, keeping her balance with each thrust or roll or dip, hands framing her hips and the skin barely hidden underneath. Sliding higher over her breasts and cupping her throat. It takes Edelgard a second to realize the Succubus is watching her as much as she is, eyes flicking up to meet the dull acid green blaze of the Demon's. Her head tilts slow, drink tipped back and lips parted enough to spill the blood infused alcohol across her tongue.

She swallows once, twice, throat suddenly dry.

The Succubus is there when she lowers her glass, leaning over where she sits and watching her with a look like she's ready to dig in and devour every inch. Edelgard's eyebrow rises, slow, empty glass set atop the table. "Can I help you?" she drawls, leaning further back in her seat. She wasn't here to entertain a Demon dancer tonight, wasn't here to entertain anyone, she was just here to wait until Rhea was done in her meeting with Ollithar.

It didn't matter how attractive the Demon was. "Your magic won't work on me," she adds, smiling in a way that exposes her fangs. "I'm not human." The show only seems to entice the Succubus more, the other woman's lips parting, the pink of her tongue visible as she runs it across her teeth. "There's countless other Vampires here to choose from," she tries again, fingers drumming against the table. "Countless people who would willingly throw themselves at you and give you their pleasure...their dreams. And you chose me."

One of the few people in the club entirely uninterested in sex currently.

"Because I want your pleasure," the other woman says finally, voice low. "And I knew you weren't human, I can see your coven earring." She reaches out at that, tracing the line of her ear down to where the earring hangs, the upside down cross and it's ruby eyed guardian dragon coiled about it. She sits while the Succubus traces the lines of it gently, her eyes intent on her face. "You're part of the Garreg Mach Coven."

"Second seat," Edelgard replies, prodding the back of a fang with her tongue. "What of it?"

The Demon considers, lips moving over silent words. "Edelgard Hresvelg, Rhea's top lieutenant....Ollithar talks about you both occasionally." 

She assumes tonight was one of those times, and silently curses him and Rhea both for leaving her outside like this. Did they do this on purpose? "Well, you have me at a disadvantage then, I know nothing about you aside from what you are."

"You only need to know what I am," the Demon replies, sliding easily into her lap. She can feel her magic pushing at the edges of her own, flame dancing against the edges of a raging inferno. "But...they call me 'Byleth'," she adds, fingers sliding against Edelgard's jaw, across her lips. Half of her is glad she didn't bring Hubert and Ingrid...the other half longs for their presence, wondering if this would have happened.

"Byleth, then," she says against the fingers pressed to her lips. "I would suggest you find yourself a different playmate. I'm here for business, not pleasure."

"But you're hungry," Byleth responds, pressing her index finger down against her bottom lip and dragging, exposing her teeth. "I can feel it, reaching out to me. You're good at ignoring it but it's still there, wishing to be satiated in any manner possible." She draws close as she speaks, close enough they would have been sharing air if Edelgard had any need to breathe.

"My hunger," she starts, eyes flicking down as Byleth takes hold on her wrist with her unoccupied hand and places it on her bared thigh. The Demon holds it there, resting her palm against the back of Edelgard's gloved hand. "Honestly isn't any of your concern," she finishes finally, her momentary distraction making her pause longer then she intended. "Besides, as a Master Vampire, I've already consumed the blood of a demon. I can't exactly go around drinking more."

Not that she couldn't if she wanted to, given Lust Demon's and their powers of mimicry. But she also knew what the magic did to them; left them as dazed and wanton as a human under the influence of venom. Consuming a Succubus' blood was said to be euphoric on a level nothing else was. So while she couldn't claim not to be curious without being a liar, she also had to stand her ground.

Business, not pleasure.

"You're still curious, aren't you?" She's not surprised Byleth could see right through her, since every Vampire always was. It was hard to find one that wasn't, after all, beyond the ones that had already gotten a taste. But those Vampires were often addicts, just like the humans who grew addicted to a Vampire's bite. She didn't fancy becoming as such.

"Curious, yes," she relents, jaw ticking as Byleth's fingers slip past her parted lips, teasing against the tip of her tongue and making it hard for her to speak. "But not foolish," she finishes, staring up at the woman pressed so close above her. So much for the 'don't touch the dancers' rule. She hadn't even paid for a private dance, or the exorbitant fee required to actually get physical with any of the Lust Demons employed here.

"I know what you're thinking," Byleth murmurs, close enough now their lips ghost. "You're thinking about all the rules and regulations, I saw you look at the bouncers nearby. Don't worry, I choose who I play with, not the other way around." She kisses her despite the fingers still in the way, and Edelgard draws a shuddering breath out of instinct at the rush the contact brings.

_Oh._

_This_ , she thinks, feeling Byleth's fingers press deeper into her mouth and slide against her tongue, _this is very dangerous_. Her hand flexes against the hard muscle of Byleth's thigh involuntarily, eyes fluttering as a thumb traces the line of one fang. She can't speak like this, jaw held open by curled fingers and tongue pinned underneath them. But she makes a noise of warning nonetheless, low and rumbled in the back of her throat. She's aware the odd feeling rattling around low in her body is a mix of excitement and nerves, the danger of Byleth potentially cutting herself open on her fangs making the predator inside her giddy while the still logical side of her knows how fast things would go downhill from there.

She couldn't be influenced by Byleth's magic, but she could be by Byleth's blood.

And Byleth knows, the glint in her eyes and the slight smirk curling on her lips telling her everything she needs to know before it happens. She feels the pressure against her fang seconds before blood drips sweet against her tongue and down her chin. "Don't worry," Byleth whispers against the shell of her ear, forcing her head back slightly. "You're a Master Vampire, after all. Just drink and sate your hunger."

It's like a switch tripping, her other hand joining the first on Byleth's other thigh, fingers digging in to flesh as Byleth's fingers withdraw beyond the bleeding thumb Edelgard prods at with her tongue. Her chin tips, throat working as she swallows the dregs of it, shivering underneath the trickle of magic she feels running through her nerves. She was going to be high as a fucking kite if she wasn't careful, useless until she came down and her magic had settled. Byleth watches her the entire time, eyes dark, body pressed suffocatingly close.

"Do you want more?" She whispers, teeth against her ear and free hand pushing up underneath her shirt. Edelgard knows she should say 'no,' should tell her that this small taste would suffice, but that's not at all what she wants. Not at all the kind of noise she makes as she sucks on Byleth's thumb to get every last drop she could. It's the sound of a woman starved and a part of her resents the other woman for it.

 _Demons_ , she thinks bitterly as Byleth withdraws her hand, smearing blood and spit across her lips and adding to the trail already on her chin. It gives her a second to breath, her body stirring back to life slowly with just that little bit, before Byleth was pressing in again, hands cupping her cheeks and lips hot against her own. She wouldn't call it a kiss so much as it was an attempt to consume, to make good on the look she'd given her earlier. It's all tongue and teeth and desperation, growls exchanged as much as whimpered moans as Edelgard loses herself in it, pushing up towards the other woman, her hands trailing from her hips to her back.

It's like touching a live wire, the shock sudden and blinding, but without the burning pain in it's wake. She wants more and hates herself for it, hates the way Byleth's touch leaves her skin burning in it's wake. Byleth retreats slow, trailing her fingers along the underside of Edelgard's jaw as she rises up to her feet and gestures for her to follow.

And follow she does. Like a puppet pulled on strings she goes, hands in her pockets, steps clipped and focused despite the haze hanging over her mind. She knew what she wanted, trailing along behind Byleth and ignoring any of the envious looks she got from passing patrons. It was true she hadn't exactly wanted to be the woman's pick of the night as it were, but she wasn't about to turn her away now. Not when Byleth had purposely woken her hunger and promised to satiate it, promised to give her more than just a taste. Byleth slinks down a hallway and through a door that Edelgard barely gets through herself before the other woman is pushing her up against it, using the weight of both of their bodies to shut it.

"No one will interrupt us here," Byleth whispers against her mouth, stealing biting kisses between each word. "We can take our time."

"Can we?" Edelgard replies, fang scraping against Byleth's bottom lip. "Are two creatures like us capable of 'taking our time?' " The combination of Vampire and Succubus is a volatile one, two chemicals blending and repelling at the same time. She doesn't want to take her time, and by the way Byleth's fingers rake at her back the other woman's words hold little promise.

"Maybe if I were human," Edelgard growls, teeth sinking into a collarbone. "Maybe if I were human you could take your time with me." She runs her tongue over the blood that wells up from the mark, lips trailing higher to her jugular. "You could pick me apart and take my dreams and my pleasure however you wanted." Her fangs press, and Byleth shudders hard against her.

"Have you ever had sex with a Vampire, Byleth?" She smirks against her skin as she feels Byleth's fingers press against the back of her head, a few tangling through her ponytail.

"I have, but not with a Master Vampire."

Edelgard hums against her skin, running her hands slow along the succubus' sides, thumbs teasing along the sides of her breasts. Byleth's hand is hot where it trails across her back in return, fingertips digging into muscle and tracing along the dip of her shoulderblades and spine. The other hand stays tangled in her hair and Edelgard takes it for the invitation it is, sinking her fangs into skin and relishing as blood fills her mouth. It's been years since she last drank from a live donor, but it's been longer since she drank from a Demon.

And not once like this, moaning low and broken as magic and blood sluice thick and sweet down her throat with each swallow. 

"It's good isn't it?" Byleth asks, both hands on the move now and she feels as her tail coils around her calf and slides a little higher along her pant leg. "It's like catnip for Vampires..." Her fingers trail lower, molding to the curve of Edelgard's ass and squeezing until she presses closer, leaving no space between their bodies.

"Vampirenip?"

Edelgard sinks her teeth in a little more, glaring up at her out of the corner of her eye. 

Byleth laughs and moans all at once, leg sliding between her thighs to press up against her. She grinds against it, desperate for some kind of friction to alleviate the tension building low in her gut and Byleth encourages it, the hands on her ass flexing and urging her into slow rocking rolls of her hips. "That's right," Byleth whispers against her ear, pressing her thigh harder against her. She feels her tail wandering higher, snaking along the inside of her thigh and laying across her hip. "You want more, don't you?"

She breaks away, jaw relaxing and teeth sliding easily from broken skin. "I want what you no doubt want," she replies, licking away the blood still oozing lazily from the wounds. "I want to get off." Her hands dip down, gloves thumbing along the juncture of Byleth's hips. "I bet even you're soaked, that much venom...."

"I am," Byleth replies, hands and tail pushing up underneath her shirt. She shudders with the sensation of it, of hot skin and slightly cooler scale. "Just like I bet you are." And she is, each rocking drag only making her clit throb worse and her body clench uselessly.

"Yes." She doesn't protest when her tail takes a change in direction, sliding down underneath the waistband of her pants. It's an odd sensation, feeling it as it slips across her skin, inching along her pelvis and lower, lower until it teases along her clit. She jerks, back thumping against the door as her hips give an abortive thrust. It makes her realize just how sensitive she is, hands dropping back to cling to the heavy, polished wood. 

Byleth descends, claiming her mouth in another consuming kiss, tongue catching on a fang and adding to the gasoline fire already raging underneath Edelgard's skin. She moans into it, meeting Byleth's tongue with her own and shuddering as her tail drags circles over her clit, as her hands make quick work of her dress shirt and drag hot over bared skin. It's not what she expected her night to be, sucking in a breath as Byleth breaks this kiss and _moves_ , rolling her hips and tangling their bodies closer in a very different kind of dance.

Edelgard moves with her, head forced back by the fingers digging into her jaw and the palm pressing against her throat, eyes rolling closed as the Succubus bites her in turn finally, sharp teeth pricking and sinking deep. It aches for only a moment before her tail presses inside of her, more and more until she clenches around it and groans as Byleth jerks against her in surprise, breath catching in her throat. Edelgard gets caught between the dual sensations of the tail thrusting in and out of her and the sound of Byleth swallowing each new mouthful of her blood. She keeps moving through it, rocking down against each thrust of her tail, clinging to her biceps and muffling her moans behind her teeth. Byleth's hands don't remain still, sliding up over her breasts and squeezing, raking nails down across the taut line of her abs and up across her back.

It burns and winds her higher, makes her gasp and writhe and tremble, pleasure building with each thrust, with each touch, with each burning open mouthed kiss Byleth presses to her throat and her shoulders and her collarbones, teeth nicking and she marks her.

Litters her with reminders.

"Fuck," she grinds out, arching, feet shifting as she tries to hold her balance even with the door taking the brunt of her weight. "Byleth--" the other woman leans up with it, lips against her chin, against her cheekbone, against her forehead. She feels drained, dazed, nerves jumping and sparking the closer Byleth's tail drags her, shaking out a moan as it coils and presses and never quite leaves, keeping her as full as it possibly can.

"You can let go," Byleth whispers, teeth teasing at her jaw. "I've got you. Come for me, my little Vampire."

She resents the pet name, resents that it's what breaks her, what makes her buck against the Demon as she comes apart at the seams with a muffled shout. Clamping down around the tail that keeps moving inside of her anyway, teasing out every bit of pleasure her orgasm would give her. She shakes through it, muscles twitching, hips juddering, jaw clenched hard enough it aches. And Byleth devours it all, a taut, trembling line against her.

"Oh," she murmurs as Edelgard comes off her high, leaning back to watch her pant for air she now needs. "You've given me a meal that will last for a week." She kisses her slow this time, almost chaste. "I've been spoiled..."

"Give me a minute," Edelgard replies, tracing her thumb across a smooth horn and watching as Byleth's eyelids flutter. "I'll spoil you more..." Her breath hitches as Byleth's tail slides free of her and for another minute she leans against the door, sweating, every inch of her still a burning live-wire.

Then she goes down, sliding slowly down to her knees and looking up at the way Byleth watches her, fingers dancing against her jaw. It's a slow tease, lips pressed to the inside of her thigh, palms skimming along her calves all the way up to her ass. "Are you going to bite me again?" Byleth asks, slipping her fingers into her hair again. "I hope you are."

Edelgard doesn't speak her response, instead she bites just as Byleth hoped, fangs sinking deep into the skin and muscle of her inner thigh. The Succubus keens, hands coiling around the back of her head as she leans over her. Edelgard drinks, sliding her thumb higher and higher until she presses against the warmth of her clit, leotard still in her way. It doesn't stop Byleth from grinding down against the touch, and it doesn't stop Edelgard from drawing patterns there, draining just a little more before she withdraws and lifts her gaze again. She let's the heady rush of magic roll through, licking her lips and chasing the taste of her blood across them. 

"They were right when they said this was dangerous," she murmurs, hooking her fingers underneath the fabric of the leotard and pulling it aside to expose the other woman. "I can see now how this could become an addiction." She pauses to lick the blood oozing down along Byleth's thigh, dragging her tongue slow across the skin as Byleth shudders from it.

"Does that mean I can't seek you out again?" Byleth asks, sounding almost dejected despite the needy edge to her voice. "Because this is a double edged sword--" Her voice breaks around a moan as Edelgard's tongue finds her clit, rolling across it once and again in abstract patterns, three fingers pressing inside of her easily. Byleth clings to the back of her neck as she thrusts her wrist, curling her fingers and rolling her tongue.

She tells herself again that she should tell her 'no' when this was all said and done, that this would have to be a one night stand, a fling. She knows that continuing to feed Byleth and feeding off her had the potential to be disastrous. But as she closes her lips around her clit and sucks, teasing the tip of her tongue against the hardened nub of it and listening to the gasping whimpers Byleth let's out, she knows she probably won't be able to bring herself to tell her they can't do this again.

Because she'd be lying, lying if she didn't want to taste her blood again, to taste her lips and her skin and everything else she had to offer. She'd be lying if she didn't want to feel her hands or her body against her again. Didn't want to feel her as she curled and scrambled against her, shuddering, nails digging hard into her shoulders and back.

Byleth moans loud and long, spine bowing and feet shifting. "Edelgard--" She whimpers, repeating her name over and over as she gets closer and closer, tightening more and more around the fingers she keeps thrusting in and out of her, grinding against her face as she keeps teasing her tongue across her clit. The Demon comes apart above her with a heaving shudder and a keening moan that cuts off on a desperate inhale, clamping down on her fingers and forcing her to resort to drumming them against slick muscle. She moves only when Byleth starts moving again, letting the other woman fuck herself on her hand as she plays her tongue and her lips across her clit, watching her as best she can.

She goes until Byleth stills, leaning heavily against her shoulders and gasping for breath. Then she withdraws, running her tongue across the new lines of blood staining the other's thigh. She sits back when Byleth let's her go, licking her teeth and smirking as the other woman drops ungracefully into her lap.

"You really did spoil me more," Byleth murmurs, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "I think we've fed one another enough to last us a while."

"We have," Edelgard agrees, sliding her hands across the other woman's back. "I suppose I ought to come here for pleasure next time."

She wonders if Rhea is looking for her, wonders if Rhea is done with her meeting.

She also can't find it in her to care.


	11. Not Immue To Pranks (Troublemaker Verse)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Is this really penis soap?" She asks, incredulous when she finally sees the soap standing perfectly erect on the bathroom counter in place of the bottle of liquid hand soap that was usually there. "Edelgard!" she shouts, hearing the younger woman's laughter from the living room, TV muted. "You actually got penis soap?!" She's stuck between laughter and mortification herself, heat burning in her cheeks as she leans over to press her finger against the side of it._
> 
> _It's...sturdier then she thought it would be."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 10. "Penis"
> 
> Troublemaker verse, kind of a prequel to the next part. This is short and stupid and I have no other excuse.

It takes her a few days to notice it, between the flurry of cleaning and work and Edelgard being incredibly distracting as they wove around one another. They'd talked about Leonie coming and Edelgard had offered to disappear for the time she was there if Byleth had honestly wanted her to.

She didn't.

All it meant was things were going to be a little interesting when Leonie arrived. It wasn't like she had planned to keep the fact she was dating someone from her family forever anyway so it only made sense Leonie would end up being the first to know about Edelgard. Edelgard and all her quirks and incredibly bad habits and silly pranks.

The latter of which Byleth has finally realized she'd been hit with.

"Is this really penis soap?" She asks, incredulous when she finally sees the soap standing perfectly erect on the bathroom counter in place of the bottle of liquid hand soap that was usually there. "Edelgard!" she shouts, hearing the younger woman's laughter from the living room, TV muted. "You actually got _penis soap_?!" She's stuck between laughter and mortification herself, heat burning in her cheeks as she leans over to press her finger against the side of it.

It's...sturdier then she thought it would be.

"Leonie is going to be here before we can use this and I am _not_ in the mood to explain it!" But she can't even be mad, thinking back to the outrageous dildo Edelgard had left firmly stuck to Rhea's desk. At least this one Byleth could store somewhere for the time being.

"What's there to explain? It's soap, you wash your hands with it." Edelgard calls back, bottle clinking. "Besides I thought you might enjoy it! It's actually a soap cast of our favorite dildo."

So, not exactly penis soap. She's not sure if it's worse or better knowing that, finding herself still just as baffled as she had been when she first spotted it. She has too many questions, all of them stumbling around to be voiced.

Byleth leans out of the bathroom, barely able to see Edelgard where she sits on the couch, feet kicked up on the table and Oreo in his usual spot on-top of her, sprawled across her stomach and chest. "Why are you like this?" she asks, and Edelgard leans a little to meet her eyes with her usual shit eating grin.

"Because it's fun, and you love it." Edelgard winks, Byleth rolls her eyes.

"You're lucky." And it brings her to her next question; "What made you think I'd enjoy it?"

"It's funny, and I know your sense of humor," Edelgard replies, teasingly jerking her beer bottle off with a flick of her wrist. "Come on you can't tell me washing your hands with a soap dildo isn't at least somewhat amusing."

Byleth narrows her eyes, straightening slowly and turning around to face down the not-actually-penis-soap. 

"I made that myself, by the way!" Edelgard adds after a minute of silence, the bottle clinks again and she can hear Oreo mrring. Byleth immediately wants to ask when the hell she'd found the time to do it, but she also doesn't exactly want to know, deciding she can pin it on the group of friends the other woman keeps adding onto Edelgard's own mischievous nature until she gets the nerve to ask.

Dorothea and Claude respectively.

"Of course you did," Byleth says, fondly exasperated. It takes her another full minute, filled with the noise of Edelgard rummaging in the kitchen, kibble hitting the cat bowl and the fridge being opened and shut before she actually tries it. She flips the water on and wets her hands, sliding her fingers along the smooth surface of the soap.

_It is funny_ , she thinks, _and messy and stupid._

But her hands are clean, and even as flustered as the sight of it makes her, knowing that the counter would be a downright mess the more they used it, she's glad that was the only prank she'd been hit with so far. Edelgard had been merciful compared to some of the things she'd heard -- and seen, Rhea's pride still hasn't recovered -- about the other woman and her pranks.

"Alright," she says as she comes out, flicking the light off with her elbow. "You're right." She stops at the end of the hallway to watch Edelgard where she's once again lounged on the couch, this time with her feet up on the cushion, Oreo still crunching food in the kitchen. "It is pretty funny, and awkward."

Edelgard shrugs a shoulder, folding her arms behind her head. "If your worried about what Leonie will think you can always put it back in the box, it's under the sink." 

Byleth crosses to the couch finally, lifting Edelgard's feet up long enough to sit down and set them across her thighs. "The first question she'll ask is if we use it for more than just washing our hands."

"And I'll tell her soap makes an awful lube," Edelgard replies, shifting a little to get more comfortable as she reaches for the remote. "But I'm serious, By, if you'd rather not have to deal with it just put it away."

"Maybe just for the time she's visiting," she replies, running her hand up and down along Edelgard's thigh. "I'm warming up to the idea of it just being 'our thing. ' "

Since it was, after all, their toy.

"One more question, though," Byleth starts, leaning over enough Edelgard ends up bent in half, legs spread and draped over her shoulders. "You said you made it yourself." Edelgard nods, attention suddenly entire seized by Byleth being so close. "Did you take it out of the apartment?"

The other woman snorts, reaching up to bury her fingers in Byleth's hair, nails ghosting against her scalp. "No, I just got one of those soap making kits and got real creative while you were at work."

When she was supposed to be cleaning.

"So that's what you were doing on that day off," Byleth murmurs, laughing. "You're such an asshole."

"Yea," Edelgard replies, heels pressing into her back. "But I'm your asshole."

Byleth hums low in response, leaning down the rest of the way to kiss the other woman, deep and lazy. "Yea," she says when they break apart, fingers tracing the line of Edelgard's jaw. "You are. But next time you get the urge to make dildo soap before someone from my family visits, maybe don't."

The other woman laughs.

"No promises."


	12. I'm Tongue Tied In Silence (Timeloop AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _They've been in separate classes, they've been on opposing sides, they've been in different times. Played games with one another that only two souls so deeply intertwined could understand. A trust and love built up over countless lifetimes, brought together by the strings that bind them. Byleth ached each time a cycle reset and she woke alone, longed as her soul cried out for it's other half until the moment she found her._
> 
> _And she always found her._
> 
> _She watches her now from a seat in the middle of the classroom, eyes tracing each stroke of chalk as Edelgard writes, every letter and word curved and elegant. She smiles as the other woman speaks, the cadence of her voice low and soothing. She talks tactics, talks subterfuge, talks formation and weaponry. She talks in a way Byleth knows was influenced by the time they've spent together._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 83 "Stroking"
> 
> For 460 followers. DragonlethxDemongard. I was experimenting again with this, and so was Byleth. All the usual suspects you've come to expect from me.

It's different this cycle, this time both of them have succumbed to their shared crest, to their blood. Byleth remembers feeling the way her body changed, the weight of her tail and the pain of the horns that split from her skull, the feel of her ears and teeth. The way her vision sharpened and color became that much clearer. She gets used to it almost as fast as Edelgard accepts it, having stood there and watched the way the Emperor's eyebrow had quirked.

Something intrigued, something excited.

(The first thing she had done was learn how to hide it like Edelgard, both of them forced to play human still.)

 _We've done this so many times,_ Byleth thinks as her and Edelgard pass one another in the hallway of the monastery, amused smirks exchanged while the students with them look on in confusion, _it was bound to happen in one of these cycles._

_They've done this so many times Byleth longs to find the catalyst to end it, but holds on to the selfish desire to keep Edelgard at her side no matter what. Each death only cementing it more._

_Again, Again, Again. Over and Over._

_She's lost count._

They've been in separate classes, they've been on opposing sides, they've been in different times. Played games with one another that only two souls so deeply intertwined could understand. A trust and love built up over countless lifetimes, brought together by the strings that bind them. Byleth ached each time a cycle reset and she woke alone, longed as her soul cried out for it's other half until the moment she found her.

And she always found her.

She watches her now from a seat in the middle of the classroom, eyes tracing each stroke of chalk as Edelgard writes, every letter and word curved and elegant. She smiles as the other woman speaks, the cadence of her voice low and soothing. She talks tactics, talks subterfuge, talks formation and weaponry. She talks in a way Byleth knows was influenced by the time they've spent together.

It's an amalgamation of everything both of them have ever brought to the table during wartime. 

Around her students write, the scratches of quills and undercurrent to the sound of Edelgard's voice. The occasional question interrupting the flow of it, the other's breath held as she waits before answering. They teach together, taking turns on different days.

No one ever questions.

Byleth is proficient in things she hadn't been the first time they had ever met, she's learned more in the sciences, math, history and everything in between. She knows the truths behind the rumors that bound through the monastery halls. She feigns being naive now, acting clueless when people expect her to and keenly aware when they don't.

Edelgard plays her part like a seasoned actor, the two of them performing a play around an unaware audience. 

"Professor." 

She comes back with the title, blinking once and refocusing on the sight before her. Edelgard is watching her carefully, violet eyes intent on her face, curious as to where she had gone. "Sorry," Byleth replies, rising from her seat and crossing to the front of the room again. "Keep in mind that there will be a test on this next week," she says as the class gathers books and gets ready to leave. "Review your notes and the chapters we've gone over." She takes the chalk from between Edelgard's fingers, meeting the other woman's eyes as she does.

Only Hubert notices the exchange.

"Lady Edelgard," he says, pulling them both from their silent exchange. "Are you ready to leave?" 

"Yes Hubert," she says, and Byleth doesn't miss the mischievous glint in Edelgard's eyes as she slips away from her, leather clad fingers stroking along the back of her hand as she goes. Byleth watches as they leave the class together, placidly meeting the dark look Hubert aims her way as he holds the door open for Edelgard.

Oh if only he knew the real truth.

It's probably better that he doesn't, he hasn't quite warmed up to her yet in this cycle.

\--------

They spar during a training session, wooden swords clattering together, muscles straining as they try to push one another back. Try to gain an advantage they wouldn't, they're perfect equals, two sides of a coin. Completing and complementing one another in every single way. They get too close with eyes on them, noses brushing, breath ghosting across lips. She loves the way Edelgard's teeth grit, the way her jaw flexes and sweat trickles down her temples and her forehead to drip off her nose and chin.

She loves how violet eyes grow dark each time their bodies brush, each time their tango of playful fighting turns intimate and nearly blatantly sexual. She also knows she shouldn't let it happen, but it's easy to pass off as the price of sparring.

Easy to turn around and talk to the rest of the class at large while they continue their own sessions. She watches out of the corner of her eye as Edelgard goes to get herself a drink, teeth catching on her bottom lip as her eyes dip to the bob of the other's throat while she drinks, watches as water dribbles off her chin and down her neck. She turns back to teaching before Edelgard catches her, skirting fingers along elbows to correct positions.

Edelgard stays after everyone files out, uniform coat left hanging over the training dummy nearest to the wall Byleth corners her at. It's a dance both of them known well, Byleth's fingers tangling loosely in Edelgard's hair, magic dropping to reveal the features they hide from everyone but one another. "You're a horrible tease, you know that?" Byleth murmurs against her throat, moments before biting down and sucking a mark into pale skin. She tastes the salt of her sweat against her tongue, relishing in the low moan that vibrates against her lips as it spills free from Edelgard's chest.

"I'm so sorry, my teacher," Edelgard replies, leaning her head back more with the gentle tug of Byleth's hand. She doesn't sound at all apologetic, tone holding the smirk she's trying not to wear. She traces the edge of a horn as she kisses her way up her throat, then seizes it like she seizes Edelgard's wrists with her tail, coiling it just tight enough to keep her from wriggling loose as she pushes closer to the shorter woman.

Edelgard's tail lashes slightly, hissing across the dirt and stone before it finds a home coiled around Byleth's ankle. 

"No you're not," Byleth says, tracing her fingers across Edelgard's lips. "If you were you wouldn't do it." She presses down, hardly surprised when the Demon doesn't bother to take the hint. "You'd behave," she adds, pressing her leg between Edelgard's and feeling just how warm she is, smirking as the other woman jerks against her. "But you don't behave."

"If I behaved," Edelgard says, tongue slipping out to run along the finger Byleth still holds against her lips. "It wouldn't be as fun and you know it." She parts her lips with that, tilting her head up as Byleth slides her fingers across her tongue. The same tongue that coils around her hand and her wrist.

"But you can be a good when you want to be," Byleth replies, sliding her fingers further until she feels the way Edelgard's jaw and throat relax with the intent to take whatever the other woman might give her. "Like now," she adds, stroking her fingers along her tongue and feeling the way the rest of it shifts against her skin. "You're being so good now, letting me do this to you." Edelgard shudders, moan sounding muffled as Byleth shifts her leg against her. "Even if it means you make a mess of yourself."

Edelgard grinds down against her thigh, eyelids fluttering and breath hitching.

"Go on," Byleth whispers, laying her fingers flat against her tongue, tips still ghosting at the back of her throat. Lips close around her fingers, and Edelgard sucks, tongue shifting against them and slipping across her wrist and palm. It's messy, and she smirks as saliva drips off Edelgard's chin and soaks into her shirt. "Good girl," she murmurs, listening to the way Edelgard's breath catches again.

She loses herself a little in the way Edelgard's head shifts, lips and tongue sliding forward and back as she sucks a little harder, eyes dark and fixated. Loses herself a little in the way Edelgard moves against her, hips rolling in a slow grind that probably does little more than drive her more crazy. Part of her wants to see if the other woman can get off like this, with her fingers practically down her throat and her leg pressed against her, knows she probably could.

 _But,_ she thinks, slipping her fingers free of Edelgard's mouth slowly, body clenching around nothing at the way Edelgard's lips part, at the way her tongue unravels from around her hand and retreats back into her mouth, _where's the fun in that?_

"We should go somewhere else," Byleth says, leaning down to kiss her, deep and desperate, tongue pressing between lips and deep into her mouth. Edelgard responds in kind, curling her tongue around Byleth's and moaning as Byleth dips lower, lower until she invades her throat, brushing against the muscle there before Edelgard catches her, sucking hard and ripping a moan from her in response.

Her fingers catch on her hips, gripping as the kiss becomes something more feral, hot and devouring. Edelgard pulls against her tail, struggling to free hands Byleth isn't ready to give up yet. They should go somewhere else, but more and more Byleth wants to take her right here. Dammed if they're still in the training hall.

But she knows better, and she breaks the kiss slowly, drawing away as both of them struggle to catch their breath. She doesn't say anything as she lets the other woman free, calling up the magic that masks them and starts across the training hall.

She doesn't have to, hearing Edelgard's steps behind her as the other woman follows.

They make it to Byleth's room, door locked and coats discarded on the floor before they're on one another again, exploring hands and sharp teeth catching lips and chins and ears and necks. Byleth growls as she shoves Edelgard down to the bed and follows her, pinning her there with her body as she kisses her hard, claws tearing tights to shreds. Edelgard clings to her shoulders, to her biceps, growl reverberating in response, teeth dragging against her tongue.

It takes them both a moment to regain enough control to peel each other out of their clothes without ripping more. Both acutely aware Edelgard would have to walk back to her room after this, acutely aware that her shredded tights would raise enough eyebrows. She runs her tongue along Edelgard's collarbone once her shirt is gone, down further across her breast, across her nipple, practically purring when Edelgard's fingers wrap around her horns and hold. She understands now why the woman below her loved it so much, and she slides lower with the thought, trailing kisses and nips across the hard line of her stomach, across the jut of her a hipbone and down along her pelvis. 

She urges Edelgard to drape her legs over her shoulders, hands dipping over the curve of her ass moments before she nearly folds the other woman in half, tongue rolling along her clit and through her folds before Edelgard has time to react.

" _Fuck_ \--" Edelgard hisses, fingers digging hard into her horns, teeth bared. Her legs slide, heels digging sharp into the middle of Byleth's back. 

"You're so wet," Byleth says between strokes of her tongue, savoring the taste of her. "So ready."

Just like she is, clit throbbing, muscles clenching around nothing with the urge to be filled. Edelgard huffs at her, head thumping back against the pillow and a moan spilling free as Byleth plunges her tongue inside of her finally, fitting her mouth over her and working her lips against her as much as she fills her with her tongue, coiling it and running it over slick muscle. The other woman shudders hard and squirms as Byleth starts to thrust it, pulling at her horns, tail lashing against the mattress and sliding across her thigh. 

She hopes, as she keeps thrusting her tongue, keeps swallowing the other woman down, hopes that Edelgard might figure out what it is she's trying to get at. She hopes, one of her hands slipping down and stroking along the length of Edelgard's tail, shuddering at the broken moan the woman below her lets out in response.

She hopes, hopes as Edelgard gets closer, tightening little by little around her tongue, body trembling. Hopes as she slows down to draw it out a bit, smirking slightly as the other woman yanks on her horns in frustration. Hopes, and gets her wish when she feels Edelgard's tail brush against her clit, jerks when it makes another pass, the other woman's eyes fixing on hers. She presses towards it as she drags her tongue slow, moans as Edelgard gets the hint and slides it along her, tip teasing around her entrance.  
Byleth grinds against it, eyes rolling closed the second Edelgard presses it inside of her, deeper and deeper until she tightens around her. She fucks herself on it, rocking against it before Edelgard starts to thrust, as she picks up her own pace again, drawing ragged moans out of the woman below her, her own sounding broken and interrupted.

" _Fuck, Byleth--Fuck, Fuck_ \--" Edelgard mutters, shaking, jerking and doing her best to move at the angle she's in. She's close, and so is Byleth, body winding tighter, nerves alight and shuddering, lungs aching with a need for breath she can't quite give herself.

Edelgard breaks seconds before she does, muscles seizing, clamping down on her even as she continues to move her tongue inside of her, coiling slightly and teasing as the woman below her moans low and long from behind clenched teeth. Her tail stills, but Byleth keeps moving, grinding, grinding until she breaks, spine bowing, eyes rolling closed as hot pleasure washes over her and shatters her focus. She keeps moving, keeps thrusting her tongue, chasing her own pleasure as much as she makes sure to give Edelgard hers. It's all instinct, groaning as she feels the tail inside her start moving again, fucking her in return until they have nothing left to give.

Until they slow, until they stop. 

Slowly Edelgard's fingers uncoil from around Byleth's horns, dropping back against the mattress as she struggles to catch her breath. As Byleth drinks down the other woman's release and licks her clean, withdrawing and easing her back down to the bed. Edelgard's tail slips free of her as she lies down beside her, kissing her shoulder.

"I'm going to have a crick in my neck because of you," Edelgard rumbles not at all angry. "Honestly, next time warn me if you want to try a new position."

"Where's the fun in that?" Byleth asks, laughing a little.

Edelgard shoves at her lightly, rolling her eyes and settling down. They fall asleep like that, limbs and tails tangled together.

Content. 


	13. And One Day I'll See You Again (Reincarnation AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The sun has risen fully by the time they all reach the park, the morning fog and cold easing out of the air to give way to the familiar chill of a dying summer. The leaves are changing, vibrant reds and oranges and yellows changing the trees to their own multicolored canvas._
> 
> _She's always enjoyed autumn, always enjoyed seeing the leaves turn and the way the unforgiving heat of summer gave way to something cooler and more manageable. She didn't, however, like winter. Didn't like the snow or the cold or the ice._
> 
> _(They met during autumn, and breathed their last in the dead of winter--)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 12 "Autumn"
> 
> Angst with a happy ending/Reincarnation AU

She's dreaming.

_She's dying, copper on her tongue and blood welling in her throat and clogging her lungs. She struggles to breathe past it, coughing, weakly clinging to the woman who leans over her. She can't see a face, just silver hair and the red of blood and her clothes. "I'm sorry," she hears, whispered against her temple over and over and over, cool lips pressed to her skin. "I never meant for this to happen." She wants to speak to her, but can't past the blood in her mouth. The world tilts, lifts, and pain burns from the center of her out. Metal skids across stone, and fingers find her face, so gentle, stroking her cheeks._

_She sees her then, gold crown burning in the light from a shattered window, arrows jutting viciously out of her shoulders and a spear firmly impaled through her solar plexus._

_They're dying, she corrects, the chill in her fingertips spreading higher, numbing her to feeling, to sound. Her vision dulls, gaze fixated on the clouded violet of the other woman's eyes. Slowly she sinks into the darkness eating at the edges of her vision, her lungs still, her pulse stills._

She wakes with tears burning hot down her cheeks, lungs begging for air and a vague memory of what she had been dreaming about. She breathes, pressing her hands to her face to muffle her sobs. She never remembers who the woman in her dreams is, but she sees her often, remembers the sound of her voice and the gentleness of her touch, remembers her smiles and the cadence of her laughter. She sees her as the ghost that haunts her dreams, the woman responsible for the ever present ache in her chest.

It hurts, and she knows by now it'll never ease until she finds the other half of her soul. Until she fits that missing piece into the hole in her heart and in her life. But it's been years, years of wandering across the world on her tours, managing a group she had ended up with by happenstance. She's seen thousands of faces, met thousands of people and been hundreds of places.

Cities, towns, countries.

She took the job so she could always be on the move, to cover as much ground as possible in her search while still being able to live comfortably. It wasn't the job she wanted, the parties and the shows and the meetings for record deals. She missed the quiet of her family home, missed tending to the horses and the other animals they kept.

But the woman in her dreams drove her to a different life, drove her to live outside the box she had fit herself into and convinced her to adapt to it no matter what. She was always good at adapting, at fitting into roles and making them her own, with her own rules and twists and morals. 

Her phone alarm yells, mockingly singing a tune from her group's new album, and she extracts herself from her tangle of sheets to turn it off. She lays there for a while, blinking into the early morning gray of Enbarr's skyline.

 _That's right,_ she thinks, slowly pulling herself up and out of her hotel bed, _the last leg of our tour._ She looked forward to going home after it was over, of returning back to her family's farm and her horses and the secret spots her and her father would go fishing at while her mother made lunch or read nearby them.

A small vacation between the hectic nature of her schedule.

She showers and dresses, checking herself over in the mirror to make sure she didn't look as much of a mess as she felt. The sadness by now is an old friend, bone deep and dragging her down, the loneliness a familiar bedfellow that she found herself wishing to banish with the warmth of another. With the presence of a ghost she had yet to find, or put to rest.

"Morning Byleth!" Dorothea calls as she joins them in their sitting room, all of the girls crowded around the table. Petra, Leonie and Ingrid all follow suit with greetings of their own, turning back to collected cups of coffee and their conversation. 

"Morning," she replies, pouring her own cup of coffee and making her way over to join them, settling down beside where Dorothea and Ingrid sit huddled up beside one another. "What's this?" She leans closer to look at the sketch laying on the table, the apparent center of attention and their conversation. "A drawing?"

Of Dorothea, she notes, a very good drawing.

"Yea," Dorothea replies, reaching out to pick it up and allow her a closer look. "There was this artist in the park I ran into during my jog, she was offering portraits to people for pretty cheap between painting the pond. So I decided why not, I'd get one. We were all thinking of going back and seeing if she'd do a group portrait, you wanna come?"

She considers it, frowning around the mug of her coffee. "Sure," she says, "Why not." She had nothing to do until the show later, and she had planned to go out for her own walk as soon as she had finished her coffee.

\-----

The sun has risen fully by the time they all reach the park, the morning fog and cold easing out of the air to give way to the familiar chill of a dying summer. The leaves are changing, vibrant reds and oranges and yellows changing the trees to their own multicolored canvas.

She's always enjoyed autumn, always enjoyed seeing the leaves turn and the way the unforgiving heat of summer gave way to something cooler and more manageable. She didn't, however, like winter. Didn't like the snow or the cold or the ice. 

(They met during autumn, and breathed their last in the dead of winter--)

"Is that her?" She hears Petra ask, her attention snapping back from where she'd allowed it to wander up to the trees and the way the water of the pond reflected all of their colors. She catches a brief sight of red amid a small snarl of people, most of her body obscured by her canvas.

"Yea," Dorothea says, jogging ahead. She catches sight of pale brown hair, and paler skin, the edge of a familiar smile that makes her heart skip. She watches as the artist hands off another portrait and graciously accepts the payment her recent patron had offered. "Hey Edie!" Dorothea calls, bringing the artist's attention to her.

Edie-- _Edelgard_ \--

Byleth stops at the sight of vibrant violet eyes and a friendly smile. Freezes in her tracks as the world comes together and narrows down to a pinpoint at the same time.

Her ghost.

Dorothea is talking, hands animatedly moving as she introduces the rest of the girls to the other woman. But Byleth doesn't hear a single word, hardly notices when Leonie drags her over so Edelgard could put a face to her name. Like her Edelgard stills at the sight of her, eyes widening and lips parting, breath catching in her throat.

_Oh._

"It's you," Byleth whispers, stepping closer to where the other woman sits, red coat and black jeans, finger-less gloves and military boots. "I've finally found you..."

Edelgard extends a hand, palm up, fingers splayed. "Hello again," she says, voice low and eyes shining. "I've been waiting for you."

Byleth takes her hand and it's like coming home, the piece of her she's been missing fit in it's slot and allowing her to breathe. With it the ache vanishes, and it takes all of her self control not to break down into relieved sobs. She hardly notices the other girls as they inch off to give them space, half hearing their giggles and whispered remarks.

All that matters is Edelgard.

_They met in Autumn--_


	14. I've Peered Beyond The Veil (Bloodborne AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She knows this city better then she did when she first arrived, alleyways and main roads, shortcuts and which buildings have unlocked doors and places to hide in while the mobs pass. There was no option to fight freely with her charge pressed against her side, only as a last ditch effort._
> 
> _She knows this city better, and because of it she can see it's decaying face chipping off to reveal the madness underneath. Can see the shift in statues that looked different a blink ago, see the flicker of something more like the shimmer off a hot road. She knows better than to try and focus on it, eyes fixed on the path ahead of them instead of what might or might not be clinging to the sides of buildings._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 13. "Harmony"
> 
> We back to the Bloodborne AU, just much earlier on. This features me and my Partner's PC Hunters who have showed up once already in these little one-shots but this is their official introduction. I also know that everyone and their brother probably has a scenario of saving the little girl but guess what I'm adding to that pile and doing it too.

She finds the little girl -- or maybe, more appropriately, the girl finds _her_ \-- while she's dripping in blood and all manner of other things she struggles not to think about. She expects the child to run the opposite direction, as any sane person would, but remembers immediately after where she is. What this shithole of a city calls a 'way of life.'

This child, she assumes, has probably seen worse than a hunter covered in gore. 

They stand there like that, quiet, observing one another. Edelgard with her axe and her pistol and the child with a music box and a small doll clutched in her little hands. "Hello," Edelgard ventures, voice a bare whisper over the almost harmonized cacophony of laughter coming from a nearby house. Everyone here is insane, madness having long set in at various stages from the continued cycle.

Over and over and over, living the same night without fail. Waiting for the moment someone finally broke the cycle and freed them.

Because death didn't.

"Hullo," the girl replies, clutching her little doll closer to her. 

"What are you doing out here?" Edelgard asks, sliding her axe and her pistol back onto their respective places on her belt. "It's far too dangerous for children to be running about the streets now." It was far too dangerous for people like Edelgard to even be here.

But she, at least, had the option of coming back.

She, at least, was the same kind of monster that infested the streets.

"Another hunter said that the chapel was a safe place," the girl says, swaying a little. "But when I tried to get there all these scary monsters chased me and I got lost."

 _Am I not scary?_ She thinks, bending down. "I can help you get to the chapel," she says instead, extending her hand. "And keep the monsters away." Not for the first time she wonders, wonders if maybe she hadn't passed out on the road on the way and this was all one big dying dream.

People didn't just...come back from the dead, after all. Monsters were a thing of fairy-tales and nightmares and Yharnam seemed to be exactly that, a fairy-tale city warped into a horrifying nightmare. She should have known that finding a cure here was too good to be true, should have known she was going to die from her illness and accepted it instead of making this last ditch attempt.

But desperation had driven her here, and now she was trapped and more than determined to get the hell out. Even if she had to lay waste to almost everything in her path to do it. 

A weight against her fingers snaps her back, blinking back to the sight of a small hand nearly dwarfed by her own. The sight sticks in her ribs, reminding her of her younger siblings days before the plague took them, pale and sweaty and clinging to her for dear life. But the little girl doesn't cling, even as she curls her fingers around two of Edelgard's own and smiles at her with all the confidence of a child who has something to believe in.

"Okay, Ms. Hunter!"

Edelgard huffs a quiet laugh, rising back to her feet. "My name is Edelgard," she says, managing a slight twitch of a smile. She doesn't ask for the girl's name, and the girl doesn't supply it, nodding once and gripping her fingers a little tighter.

She knows this city better then she did when she first arrived, alleyways and main roads, shortcuts and which buildings have unlocked doors and places to hide in while the mobs pass. There was no option to fight freely with her charge pressed against her side, only as a last ditch effort.

She knows this city better, and because of it she can see it's decaying face chipping off to reveal the madness underneath. Can see the shift in statues that looked different a blink ago, see the flicker of something more like the shimmer off a hot road. She knows better than to try and focus on it, eyes fixed on the path ahead of them instead of what might or might not be clinging to the sides of buildings.

"I don't like those things," the girl says off handedly, dragging Edelgard's attention up, up to the thing almost there. "Can you see it, Ms. Edelgard?"

"No," she replies, bending down to finally lift the girl up, letting her hide her face against the collar of her coat. By now most of the gore has dried, and the child hardly seems to mind it either way. "Not as clearly as you." But children are known to be more sensitive to that sort of thing.

She doesn't wonder what this place looks like to her.

Instead she just continues on, jogging across open expanses of streets and praying nothing notices her. And nothing does, the people too distracted and self absorbed to notice her as she slips by behind them, questioning how such a short distance suddenly became such a long haul.

Down another alleyway. Stuck awkwardly sliding down a ladder with the child clinging like a sack of bricks to her back.

She freezes at the base of it, rickety wood groaning it's protest underneath her boots as she listens for the sound she thought she heard. Voices, echoing in harmony from deeper within the sewer tunnels, one a little louder then the other. She inches along, sliding her feet through mud and sludge and water to keep her steps as silent as possible, forgoing her lantern in favor of stealth. The child clings tighter, folding as close to her as she can possibly get, trying to make herself as small and as light as possible. 

A man and a woman stand at the base of the ladder Edelgard wants, the man agitatedly waving his hands at the smears on his coat and splattered all over his partner.

"It's all over my coat and all over you! I still can't believe--what kind of city has a giant pig in their sewers anyway?!" Wisely he doesn't try and wipe it off, but his disgust is evident in the light of the torch his partner holds.

"This city," his partner responds, much quieter. "We've established by now this entire city is something far removed from the norm." It's the woman who notices her first, head shifting and eyes falling on her from underneath the brim of her hat. 

He notices a moment later, his disgust going out like a snuffed candle. 

She holds up the hand not supporting the child, stepping closer to the ring of flickering torchlight. "I'm a hunter like you," she says, though ' _like you_ ' was a kind of unidentifiable space she wasn't sure how to navigate. 

"She has the girl, Jonas," the woman murmurs, casting the man -- Jonas -- a sideways glance. "I think by now anything else in this place would have..." the woman trails off, gesturing with the hand not occupied with the torch.

 _Killed her_. Edelgard fills in, mentally.

"Ms. Edelgard is taking me to the church!" the girl pipes up, leaning up from her shoulder to look at the other two hunters. "She said she would keep the monsters away and she has been! So don't you be mean to her!"

"Edelgard?" The woman mutters, pausing as her partner cuts in.

"Oh has she? That's good! Though didn't we tell you to stay put? That we'd come back and get you?" He's closer now, by a few inches, his good natured attitude offset by the wary way he still watches her. 

"I got scared," the girl says, tucking herself against her neck again. "And you were taking too long."

Something chips in his expression, blanking out and dying, eyes sliding away from the girl to her. She doesn't know what happened, doesn't know what it is that has both of them looking so wounded, but she can guess it had to do with the child tucked in her arms.

"We still have a little ways to go to get to the chapel that we haven't cleared yet," the woman cuts in, ever serious, ever quiet. "We'll go a head and finish clearing the path for you." She doesn't wait for Jonas, dropping the torch in the water and starting up the ladder. 

"Don't you worry," he says, thumbing a grin. "We'll have you there in no time!" 

She waits a few seconds after both of them disappear before she climbs, listening to the fading sounds of battle as she hauls herself and the child back above ground. And she follows in the pair's wake, occasionally getting a glimpse of the perfect way they fight.

They know one another, bodies moving in perfect harmony. Filling in each other's weaknesses, balancing each other's strengths. A dance of blades and death that ends with them unscathed and moving on to the next fight like a well oiled machine. It's terrifying, beautiful and a little enviable.

He whistles as they walk through the graveyard, and his partner hums.

It's an old war tune, and she finds herself humming along as well, adding to the echoing drone of their voices. 

The child sleeps as Edelgard climbs the steps and joins the two hunters and the rest of the Yharnimites who still hold some semblance of sanity in the saftey of the chapel's walls.

Edelgard stays with her, tucked easily against a wall where she can keep watch on everyone there. The two hunters join her, sitting against the wall at her side. Jonas beside her and the woman beside him. "We never officially introduced ourselves," he says, voice lower then she's heard it so far. "I'm Jonas, and this is Corsica." Beside him Corsica waves an easy flick of fingers. "You're an outsider too, right? Like I told Corsica we should all try and stick together, us outsiders."

She smiles, a little strained. "I think I would just slow you two down."

"You're a hunter, aren't you?" this from Corsica, eyes intent on her face. "Besides, we could always use more help."

"And it's not like we're always stuck at the hip," Jonas says, laughing. "The important thing is, we're all there for one another when we need it. You can keep on doing your own thing, but if you need us, come find us in the dream."

She nods once, looking down at the child asleep against her chest.

"Alright."

Somewhere a voice whispers, calling.


	15. Cards For Souls (Demon AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"--Welcome to Hell's Edge Casino!"_
> 
> _She's not here exactly because she wants to be, caught among a massive group of people both human and not, cheering wildly for the woman on stage; black suit and blood red dress shirt, gold painted horns and inhuman charm. Her tail swings behind her as she speaks, gloved hands spread in an over exaggerated gesture. She's beautiful, Byleth thinks, unable to avoid the way her attention remains trapped by the other woman, but it's her fault she's here."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Redo of Prompt 14 "Flat."
> 
> This is what happens when I listen to Electro-Swing music when I write, also I remember vaguely seeing someone talk about a poker au??? so I decided to put my spin on it. With Demon!Edelgard and Hunter!Byleth.
> 
> Song pair is _Hit & Run (Wolfgang Lohr Remix) by The Electric Swing Circus_

_"--Welcome to Hell's Edge Casino!"_

She's not here exactly because she wants to be, caught among a massive group of people both human and not, cheering wildly for the woman on stage; black suit and blood red dress shirt, gold painted horns and inhuman charm. Her tail swings behind her as she speaks, gloved hands spread in an over exaggerated gesture. She's beautiful, Byleth thinks, unable to avoid the way her attention remains trapped by the other woman, but it's her fault she's here.

_"--Where any game could be your last!"_

\--------

It happened by accident, sent out on an investigation that had brought her a little too close to the territory and she'd uncovered a little more then she had bargained for and paid the price for it. Her savior had turned out not to be a squad from Garreg Mach, but a Demon, an Emperor class Demon. That day in the alleyway had stuck with her, blood in her mouth and sulfur in her nose, eyes fixated on the woman strolling along the rain slick brick like there wasn't trash laying everywhere. Two men flanked her, both as intimidating as they were tall.

"Well!" She says as soon as she's gotten close enough, onyx horns gleaming dangerously in the moonlight, haloing the silver of her hair. "Look at what the cats dragged in." She bends down, fingers pulling slightly at the legs of her slacks as she does, violet eyes burning in the low light. "My, what a sight you make. Tell me, what are you doing out here? Don't you know it's dangerous at night?" She smiles, all sharp teeth and sarcastic drawl.

Byleth knows she knows, and she grimaces, pressing the flat of her tongue to the cut on the inside of her cheek, to her teeth. "You quote that from the Garreg Mach handbook or something?" She asks, question for a question, stare blank.

The men with the demon shift (tall, dark and broody, and carrot-top, as she had later nicknamed them) one reaching for her only to be cut off by a lifted hand and a click of the tongue. "No need, this poor human has suffered enough violence today, honestly, look at her." Leather slides against the exposed skin of her jaw, fingers gently tipping her face up. "Though I can't quite let you go either, I heard from a little birdy that you saw some things you weren't supposed to."

"The warehouse," Byleth admits, leaning into the palm that so gently cups her cheek in response. She's warm, and the leather is soft, smooth and she breathes in the scent of it. Catches an undertone of rose and smoke. "I work for Garreg Mach," she adds, rolling her eyes up to meet the glow of the Demon's. "So if I disappear, they'll come looking and you'll have more trouble on your hands."

She watches the slow ascension of the Demon's eyebrows, listening to the low hum that vibrates in her throat. Then again, she thinks, swallowing, if she has to die, at least it'll be by the hands of a very attractive woman.

"I'm not going to make you disappear," she says finally, leaning close enough her breath tickles across her lips. "How's this, come to Hell's Edge in a week. You can play for your freedom."

Byleth snorts. "How are you going to keep me to that?"

"I'm," the demon starts, leaning closer until their noses brush, until lips ghost and Byleth forgets how to breathe. "Going to mark you. If you don't show up in a week, I'll have someone come collect your soul." There's no chance to reply before the other kisses her, fingers sliding back into her hair and curling around the back of her neck. She remembers how to move finally, hands snapping up to grab at shoulders, gripping onto the fabric of her suit coat. It's chaste, but it burns through her anyway, makes things low in her body tighten and want more when the other woman withdraws.

"See you in a week," she says, licking her lips and sitting back on her heels. 

\----------

It was like waking up from a dream, and she had gone through the rest of her week thinking that's all it had been. Until she found the mark on the back of her neck, hidden underneath her hair...right where the Demon's hand had been. 

_Clever bastard._

So now she was here, left to her own devices in a Casino for the dammed and the stupid. It fits it's name, she realizes as she strolls through, carpets dyed red with gold lining, walls and pillars a match. It's loud, music only an undercurrent to slot machines and shouted conversation. 

She wonders how she's supposed to play for her freedom, wandering further to the bar tucked in the corner, by the counter to get chips and whatever the hell else she needed to access games. The bartender is a surly seeming man, cropped blonde hair and a missing eye. He focuses on her soon as she sits down, pausing in the middle of whatever drink he was making. "What can I get you?" he asks, and she rescinds her previous thought about him.

Looks scary, seems nice.

"Gin and Tonic," she replies, looking out over the floor. "And uh, could you tell me where that silver haired demon is? I owe her."

"Lotta people owe her," he replies, and she listens as he rummages around behind her, bottles and glasses clinking. "Ice?"

"No thanks," she replies, glancing to him. "Do they?"

"That's Edelgard," he says, putting her drink down in front of her. "She runs this place, runs most of this city. She's not as bad as all this makes her look, she just...likes making business fun."

She doesn't ask, because the less she knows, the less she'll have to lie to Rhea about later. "Well, I'm supposed to play for my soul, I guess."

He laughs, pointing across the floor to the poker tables she had previously ignored. "Cards for souls," he says, rapping his knuckles against the counter. "Drink is on the house, you'll need it."

She's never played a poker game in her life, though Sylvain had often told her she had an excellent face for it.

"Thanks," she says, taking a long drink and letting the alcohol burn slightly on it's way down. "I am gonna need it." 

She finds Edelgard after winding her way into the maze of tables, watching a moment as she finished dealing in the current turn. Three people sit around the table already, chips stacked in the center of it. "Hey," she says, soon as she's close enough, leaning in the empty space between two of the three occupants. "You have room for a fourth?"

"Oh, well, hello," Edelgard says, giving her a once over that makes her hot under the collar. "Why, yes, I do. Have a seat." Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail tonight, a white and red half mask obscuring part of her face.

Byleth pulls a chair from an unoccupied table nearby, sitting down and carefully setting her drink out of the way. She gets the basics of how the game is played from watching a round or two on other tables and an over animated explanation from the woman at the counter giving out chips, but her confidence is somewhere between three feet deep and shaky at best. 

She adds her chips, putting them down on the table by her drink.

Edelgard shuffles the cards with a flourish only a dealer could, arching them between her hands before she flicks them out with easy twitches of her wrist. Two each, three face down in front of Edelgard. "Starting bet is five hundred," she says, peering at her from behind her mask. "But I know you're playing for so much more."

Byleth stares back, defiant. She adds her chips to the pile. "Five hundred it is then," she replies. _And a soul_ , she doesn't add. Edelgard smirks.

She focuses on her cards when the game starts proper, half of a straight flush. "Check," someone says, knuckles drummed against the table. "Fold," another says, tossing his cards onto the table.

"Check," she says; _thump thump._

"Raise."

Edelgard flips all three cards in front of her, someone coughs, someone else mutters a curse. She takes another look at her cards, expression never changing. She hums, takes a drink. Waits, the drone of the music and the noise buzzing in her ears. "Raise," someone says.

Byleth matches it. Another person folds.

Another card gets set down.

Edelgard's fingers tap a beat against the edge of the counter, tail swishing behind her. "Twenty seconds," she says, eyes sliding to the woman sitting adjacent to her. "Check."

Byleth checks, drains the rest of her drink.

The last card gets set down. 

"Two pair," her opponent says, flipping her cards over.

Byleth smiles. "Straight Flush."

The chips go to her.

She stays like that for a good portion of the night, her opponents switching in and out, her fingers tracing the flat edges of her cards each time she looks at the new set dealed to her. Her pile of chips growing until she feels like some kind of chip dragon. All the while Edelgard watches her, further and further amused at her presence.

"You know," she says between matches, everyone who had been there all vacating. Byleth pauses in the middle of counting her latest win, feeling like a deer in the headlights. "In a normal casino someone might wonder if you're counting cards."

"Beginner's luck," Byleth says, shrugging. "A friend told me once I have a good face for poker."

"That friend was right," Edelgard replies, tail flicking slow, chin leaned against her forearms. "You do have a lovely poker face."

"Does this count as winning my freedom? I kind of like my soul."

The Demon grins, laughing aloud as she straightens back to her feet. "Oh you long since won that back, you're just having fun now, aren't you?"

She can't deny that one, knuckles wrapping against the table. "Yea, you got me there."

Byleth walks away with half a million dollars and a friend in a high place.

(Or should she say 'low' place.)


	16. Watch Your Step, Oh Justice Guided. (A Consuming Mind sidestory)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"She talks and Edelgard listens, cheek propped against her fist as words spill from the woman across from her like a sinner in a confession booth. It's long and meandering and at times nonsensical, but Edelgard parses it as she goes, picks out the things Bernadetta wants her to know and tosses out what she doesn't. She lets her talk about her life now compared to what it was, lets her talk about how her medication and how the therapy is helping._
> 
> _And she sees it for herself, remembers the first day the other woman stepped into her office and how nervous she had been. She was still nervous, still occasionally tripped over her words and tumbled down into self depreciating rambles, but they were no where near what they were the first few months. She still startles if Edelgard moves when she doesn't expect it, freezing up like a deer caught underneath the gaze of a hunter."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 16 "Confusion."
> 
> And we're back with a side story for "A Consuming Mind" told from Edelgard's POV. It gives a bit of a background about events prior to the start of the story itself.

Bernadetta talks. 

She talks and Edelgard listens, cheek propped against her fist as words spill from the woman across from her like a sinner in a confession booth. It's long and meandering and at times nonsensical, but Edelgard parses it as she goes, picks out the things Bernadetta wants her to know and tosses out what she doesn't. She lets her talk about her life now compared to what it was, lets her talk about how her medication and how the therapy is helping.

And she sees it for herself, remembers the first day the other woman stepped into her office and how nervous she had been. She was still nervous, still occasionally tripped over her words and tumbled down into self depreciating rambles, but they were no where near what they were the first few months. She still startles if Edelgard moves when she doesn't expect it, freezing up like a deer caught underneath the gaze of a hunter.

Sometimes she thinks Bernadetta forgets she's even here, soothing away the confusion that writes itself across the other woman's features as she comes off the panic reaction of realization.

"My aunt offered me a job at her flower shop," Bernadetta says suddenly, and Edelgard's attention flicks back to the present, an eyebrow slowly ascending. "I wasn't sure if I could handle it, but she said I wouldn't have to worry about working with people...and I-and I-"

"You like tending to plants," Edelgard finishes, voice low, calming. "I think you should do it, it would be good for you to finally have something to distract yourself with outside of school." She watches while the other woman fidgets, wringing her hands and nodding her head over and over.

"Ye-yea. I think...I think so too, I'm just..." she leans forward, whispering. "What if I do have to deal with people...like I can avoid people at the university but..."

Edelgard smiles, thin and a rather poor attempt at pleasant, it's passable enough not to be noticed. "They'll be asking you about plants, maybe a little small talk. You have a wealth of knowledge to offer and a perfect willingness to share that knowledge." She lifts her free hand off the chair arm, fingers splayed. "The hardest part will be convincing yourself not to overthink the situation."

She holds up a finger, cutting off the nervous ramble she can see coming. "Just remember how far you've come. From a shut in afraid of the world at large to who you are now, doing things you only wished to do...because you put your mind to it and believed in yourself."

"I had a good support group," Bernadetta mumbles, eyes fixed on the floor. "Getting away from my dad was probably the best thing for me...for us. My aunt has been so welcoming to me and my mom, practically bending over backwards for us."

She hums low, a coldness in her chest settling across her and stilling her at the reminder. She doesn't think of the stories the other woman had told her, setting it aside in the form of a business card tucked away with many others. "He hasn't given you any trouble lately, has he?" 

_Would you miss him?_

"No, I mean-" Bernadetta trails off, wringing her hands and staring at the window. "There was an incident, he showed up on campus to try and get me to come home with him..."  
Edelgard straightens in her seat, unfolding slowly. 

"But my uncle chased him off, so it wasn't all that bad." She laughs a little, high and nervous, eyes swinging back to meet her own. Edelgard shuts herself down, closing off and letting the other girl see what she knows she wants.

Comfort, support, warmth.

Not the void Edelgard hides underneath it all.

"Good."

The phone rings as she's showing Bernadetta out, a momentary sense of inconvenience and the annoyance that came with it. She wonders if someone had an emergency or if it's a cancellation for another day's appointment. She lets it ring as she says her goodbyes, smiling gently as she shuts the door.

She reaches her desk in a few long steps, picking the phone off it's hook in the middle of it's last ring. "Hello?" For a moment there's silence, followed by a drawn breath in mild surprise.

"Dr. Hresvelg, I didn't expect you to be answering calls..."

Confusion settles, brows drawn to match the thinning of lips. "Dr. Casagranda, yours was not a voice I expected to hear today." She settles slowly, leather of her chair creaking as she sits back, fingers skimming over the appointment book laying in front of her. "Are you sending me a patient? Or perhaps is this a social call?"

Manuela laughs, papers shuffling in the background over the line. "I wish I could say it was social, Edelgard, it's been too long. But no, this is a bit of a warning. You came up in a discussion today that I was having with someone about one of my patients, and that someone might be coming by unprompted to ask for your help."

Edelgard pauses mid word, the stroke of her pen frozen. "Oh?"

"It's...complicated. I really would rather them not be working at all...but..."

She finishes writing as Manuela trails off to gather her thoughts, setting the pen back in it's holder and flipping the book shut. "I'm going to go out on a limb and say this is about working with the FBI again, yes?" She turns slightly, balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder to check her watch.

Five minutes until her next appointment, she really didn't have time to be playing guessing games.

"Yes, I'm sorry I must have caught you right in the middle of seeing patients. I just didn't want you to be suddenly blindsided at having an FBI agent show up in your waiting room." Manuela sighs, and Edelgard stares across the office.

"Par for the course in our line of work," she replies. "But this patient of yours..."

"I'm almost sure you'll be working with them, yes. They don't particularly enjoy having people like us poke around in their head, so just...just be careful."

_I know how you are--_

She smiles thinly, gaze dead. "I'll be on my best behavior. Now If you'll excuse me I have another patient coming in soon. Perhaps next time we can have a social call, take some time to catch up...over dinner?"

"I'd like that," Manuela replies, tone carrying the laugh she refuses to let free. "Just let me know."

"I will. Goodbye."

The federal agent is, indeed, in her waiting room when she next opens the door. It's easy for her to pick out the one woman that doesn't belong there, eyes falling on her where she sits in the corner out of the way. Shaggy blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, tanned skin and an intense stare. The other woman meets her eyes, assessing.

She plays dumb. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No," the agent says, looking properly chastised. "I'm here on other business."

"Then I'm going to have to ask that you wait," Edelgard says, ushering her next patient in. "I hope you understand, my patients come first. Unless this is an emergency."

"No, no, that's perfectly reasonable Doctor. I can wait."

So she leaves her there, slipping back into her office and meandering through the rest of her appointments with the same attention she paid each and every person who came through her office. But she couldn't shake the presence of the agent in her waiting room, her previous sense of inconvenience returning and leaving her the faintest bit irritated.

_Why now?_

"Agent," she says once the last patient has left and the evening light had well begun to retreat and give-way to night. The waiting room lights are warm compared to the slightly brighter glow of her office, and she steps aside as the other woman comes inside, looking around at everything there is to see. "What can I help you with?"

She doesn't mention Manuela's call, playing completely oblivious and confused. "Do I need to be worried?" She adopts a lighter tone, making into a joke to hide the real concern that rattles underneath the surface of her skin. She didn't like doing things unprovoked, but she wasn't prepared to give up the life she'd built either. 

Slowly she eases up behind the other woman, steps silent against the carpet.

She laughs, glancing over her shoulder. "Heaven's no! I mean I might have to ask you a few questions, but I'm not investigating you." She's friendly enough, Edelgard surmises, a 'heart on the sleeve' type. Courageous, with a sense of justice unwilling to bend even when it needs to.

Likely thick-headed.

"Well, then, a few questions will hardly hurt." She relaxes, smoothing her hands down the front of her suit, extending one to offer her guest the chance to sit if she desires.

She doesn't. Edelgard doesn't either.

"Catherine Nevrand," the other woman says finally, reaching a hand out. "I-well, you've probably figured that bit out."

_Yes,_ she thinks, reaching across the space and shaking the other woman's hand, _I have_.

"No doubt someone of your caliber has been called upon before, Dr. Casagranda gave you a shining review after all." Catherine withdraws, grin casual. "Said you two went to school together and worked together for quite a while, even showed me your paper."

Edelgard lets her hand drop back to her side, then makes a show of threading her fingers together, humming low in her throat. "Ah, yes. We learned a lot from one another during that time, she jokes about how the mentor became the mentored somewhere in the middle of it."

Catherine laughs again, starting her wind through the office again, looking at the collection of books on the shelves, at the artifacts settled in various empty places and hanging on the walls. "I can kind of understand why, you have a gift for this and at such a young age too."

Respectful.

Edelgard follows her, moving closer to her desk as she watches the other woman's path. "I'm not that young," she comments, smile wry. "But what do you need me for? Do you not already have plenty of gifted individuals wandering the halls of the BSU?"

"I need you to help me with a psychological profile," Catherine says, turning to look at her again. "It's a bit of a tender subject, but I have to make sure...everything checks out."

She connects the dots, the confusion she previous felt fully melting away. The patient Manuela mentioned.

She smiles. "Of course."


	17. Say I Won't Return, But I Never Learn (Wolfleth AU Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 18 "Peptobismal" 
> 
> SO THIS IS SUM ANGST AND SOME MORE ANGST and a little bit of happy, I promise Part 2 will be more fluff and less pain. I almost just decided to have it all be one long ass one-shot with two prompts in one but, I vetod the idea and decided to just make it two parts.

It's a cloudy day when she first finds the puppy, the air cold enough it fells like it cut her lungs each breath she takes. Above her snow threatened, gray rolling along through the sky in a darker mirror to the frost weighing heavy on the grass and leaves still clinging to life. The puppy, she thinks, huddling into her orphanage grade coat with it's thin material and it's holes, is like her. Something small and abandoned, left behind by whoever it was that was supposed to nourish and protect. It's cold, like she is, curled in the corner of it's tiny box and shivering. She can't leave it the way it is, and the thought has her shuffling and looking around to where the other kids are playing.

She can't bring it inside with her either, because the Matron wouldn't allow it. She understood why, there were too many kids and they could barely keep themselves afloat, how would they take care of a puppy too? But out here the poor thing would freeze to death, and she'd never be able to live with herself knowing she walked away and let it happen. 

There's no way to tell how long she stands there, cold biting at her small hands and feet and nipping at her cheeks, thinking about what best to do to help this poor puppy. She takes off her coat as the first snow begins to fall, reaching down to place a cold hand against colder fur. "Hello little puppy," she says, smiling when a small face lifts to look up at her, blue eyes finding her own. "I can't bring you inside...but I'm going to take care of you, okay?" She does her best to bundle the little one up in her coat, careful not to restrict it's movement. The puppy curls up deeper inside of the thin fabric, huffing, tail wagging ever so slightly.

She brings it her blanket next, sneaking inside and to her room while the caretakers and the other kids are busy, then slipping back out. She adds it to the box, padding the bottom of it and giving the puppy more room to curl and hide from the elements. She's freezing by the end of it, hands and feet nearly numb, body trembling underneath the assault of winter's cold.

But the puppy is warm and protected and fed with table-scraps she'd snitched on her way through the kitchen.

She retreats inside after covering the box with a discarded newspaper, curling by the fire in an attempt to warm herself up. She has no answer when she's asked about where her coat went, or why she has no blanket when it's bed time; just a rise of shoulders and a shake of her head. She's given a new blanket and she doesn't ask where it came from.

By now she knows better. 

Instead she tucks herself underneath it and sleeps curled up, thinking about the puppy outside and hoping it survives the night.

She's given a new coat the next day when it's time to go outside, it's too big for her, sleeves hanging past her hands and the rest threatening to trip her as she walks, but she goes anyway. Gently ushered along by one of the caretakers to follow her peers.

By now they know better. Know that she doesn't keep friends, doesn't really play with the other kids when she could be reading a book or taking a long walk around the grounds. They know she prefers to be alone despite all the attempts they had made to get her to make friends. They know she barely talks at all unless she feels comfortable, and hardly ever cracks a smile. They all know about the broken Hresvelg girl, but none of them know her story.

None of them but her and she never wanted to tell.

Couldn't even if she did.

So she goes out into the freshly fallen snow with the other kids, breaking off from them under the watchful eye of the caretakers outside with them. She lets them think she's going off on another one of her walks, winding around the grounds and only slipping away when they're distracted with someone else. 

She finds her puppy and it's box all covered in the snow, and she does her best to uncover it, puling the newspaper off and peering in. "Puppy?" She's relieved to see the small face with those blue eyes, ears perked forward and a little pink tongue. She wonders what kind of dog it is as she reaches in the box and strokes it's fur, smiling a little when the puppy licks her palm in response, tail wagging. This time she picks it up, gathering it in her arms and looking at it in the light of the sun.

It's tail keeps wagging, head tilting as it looks up at her, paws resting against her collarbones. She thinks it's not like any kind of dog she's seen before, too big and too small all at once. She thinks she's never seen a dog with a shade of fur like this one, almost looking blue in the harsh light. Whatever her puppy is, it's beautiful and loving, with kind eyes that don't judge her for her long silences even after she had already spoken.

She spends the winter taking care of the puppy, until she falls sick with a good portion of the children in the orphanage. Down with a high fever and an upset stomach, barely able to sit up long enough to try and force down some watery soup and the medicine the nurse brings, something pastel pink and chalky tasting. It helps with the nausea, but not much else. She sleeps, sleeps through the quiet crying of other children and the sounds of the way the sickness effects them. Sleeps until the days blur together and she almost forgets about her puppy.

Not all of the children stuck in the ward with her live through the end of winter.

Her puppy is gone by the time she's able to be on her feet and outside again, and she stares at the empty spot where the box was until a caretaker comes to find her and bring her back inside. She doesn't ask, can't find the words to even when she tries once, twice, two false starts leading to tears and frustration, burying her face against the shoulder of the woman who gathers her up.

She hates it, hates not being able to find her voice when she needs it most, hates the feeling of failing the small life she had decided to take into her hands. She reminds herself that this was why she never got close to anyone, because as soon as she does the happiness gets pulled away from her.

Again and again.

So she vows not to get close again, for a second time in her short life, and this time she sticks with it. She goes through her life like that, growing up on the fringes by choice, never quite able to find her voice when she can never find it in her to trust the people who try to help her. She'd done it once, and been hurt. She'd done it once and ended up here, abandoned.

No one ever takes her like they do some of the other children, and eventually she leaves under her own power. She's too old to be here, they tell her, has reached an age where they can no longer give her what she needs. But they help her enough, find her a place to stay and a place to work that doesn't require her to talk to anyone if she doesn't want to.

And she never does.

People don't notice her, because she blends in with the background, getting through those encounters she has to have with small smiles and easy gestures. She learns to read, to write and to speak with her hands from the lady who minds the bookstore she works at and lives above.

She never dares to consider the woman anything more than an employer and a landlord and a teacher. But she finds her voice around her and only her, speaking softly during one of their nightly teatimes. She remembers the sound of the lady's cup clattering to her saucer, and the shock that had written itself across aged features before the smile that had replaced it. She spoke more, in fits and starts, little sentences with all the words she had bottled up over the years.

And she stayed until the day the old lady passed away in her sleep.

The bookstore changes hands and Edelgard vanishes into the night with what money she has saved and what little she has for belongings. Sturdy clothes and short cropped hair, she's more at ease out in the world even if she might never find her voice again. She can still speak in other ways, by writing or with her hands, by tapping signs and asking polite questions with her expressions. 

She finds her way across one city and then another by train and walking, stopping at hotels and cafes and exploring. She finds jobs running errands or making deliveries, she finds jobs doing less savory things if it means protecting the less fortunate. The blood on her hands is just something she's grown used to, so a little more was nothing if it was for the right cause.

 _Vagrant_ , they call her, _wanderer_ others say. 

No one learns her name and she prefers it that way, drifting from town to city to territory by train or by foot. She passes the years like that, learning about people and places through books and word of mouth, picking through the upper and lower classes of society through her work. Amusing herself with how the rich react when someone from off the street is working at their fancy parties after they had seen her days before in a flower shop or a cafe.

 _Jack of all trades,_ someone says to her at one such party, a man with a smile she vaguely recognizes. A man with a tie that distinctly reminds her of the medicine she was given back at the orphanage, pastel pink and resting against the white of his dress shirt. Peptobismal she thinks outlandishly, keeping the laugh that perches underneath her chin in check.

(That's not it, but all three share the same color.)

She smiles and bows, then disappears into the crowd once he's taken his drink.

A year later she finds herself back at that same Orphanage as an adult, hands in pockets and much the same as the day she had been left on it's steps as a child. Still too quiet, still unable to quite trust anyone she interacts with. Always watching, always waiting. But she's older now, and wiser, more confident in how she moves through the spaces she chooses to occupy.

No one there is familiar, and she finds herself hardly surprised by the fact. 

A day later she's back at the train station, leaned back against the bench with her bag sitting beside her, working her way through a sandwich she had bought at one of the local stands. It's just as cold as she remembered it as, leaving her half curled up in her coat with a thought to return to warmer places, Enbarr, perhaps, she mulls as she reaches for her coffee and takes a long drink.

She liked it there.

She turns back to the sight of a large dog sitting a few feet from her, ears forward and blue blue eyes studying her. It takes her another second to realize it's not a dog but a wolf and she freezes, careful not to meet it's eyes even as she takes in the sight of it.

Just sitting, just watching. Fur almost blue--

Her eyes widen, breath catching in her throat as the memory of the puppy in the box crashes down on her all at once. "Puppy?" she whispers, voice still as ragged and broken as it always was. "Is that you...?" She watches as the wolf's ears prick forward more, head tipping to the opposite side, tail wagging slightly.

Hesitantly she reaches out despite her mind telling her that she's trying to touch a wild animal, but there's something different about this one. Something...human in the way those eyes look at her. And she would know, having spent all her life looking people in the eyes to see what they were thinking, what they where like.  
If they were lying or telling the truth.

She knew humanity, and she knew everything in between.

The wolf shifts forward, pressing into her hand, tail wagging even more as Edelgard moves to bury her fingers in thick fur, laughing faintly in relief. All this time her puppy had been alive and well, and growing just like her. "You got so big," she mutters, rubbing her hands along a face, over ears. "Almost as big as me."

She shifts as the wolf licks her hand and then her face, paws as big as her hands on her knees the closer it gets. She ends up sitting on the train station floor with a wolf half in her lap and her fingers stroking along it's fur.

"I have to go," she says as the train finally pulls in an hour later. "So you have to get up." Begrudgingly the wolf does, slowing rising to it's feet and looking at her dejectedly. "Don't," she mutters as she gets up and gathers her things. "Not those sad eyes again." Her bag slung over her shoulder and her trash gathered she looks back at the wolf once more.

"Go on," she says, jerking her chin. "Don't want someone to catch you."

The wolf doesn't go, and Edelgard frowns, glancing up when the conductor calls for boarding. She couldn't possibly bring a wolf with her, could she? Did the wolf even want to? Did it even realize what she was planning to do? She reaches out, patting the top of it's head before she starts walking, realizing a moment later the wolf has decided to follow her, lumbering easily up to walk alongside her as she goes.

Alright, she thinks, dropping her trash in the bin as she passes it. So she had a traveling companion now. And had no way to explain how or why or what. 

She boards somewhere no one is really paying attention, taking a seat out of the way and letting her wolf settle on the floor by her feet. She settles in for the long ride, book in hand and her wolf laying against her foot.

Thankfully no one asks, but she gets a few looks that make her wonder if she was going to get thrown off the train at one of the stops.

She doesn't.

Her wolf doesn't cause trouble, doesn't growl when anyone approaches her, barely moves beyond to open an eye and perk ears forward. Edelgard shares her food and her water and reads and sleeps.

She doesn't entertain the thought that she's happy, that she's content.

She doesn't dare.


	18. Not At All How I Planned It (Wolfleth AU Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"She knew the higher they got into the city though, the cooler it would get, eyes casting upwards from the station to where she knew the abandoned palace still loomed hidden behind all the buildings. Enbarr felt like home, felt like the one place in the world she truly belonged. Yet every time she reached out for an answer she only came up with a blank, fingers sifting through the spots in her memory that held only fragments as small as grains of sand. She gives up, leaving it unanswered, like much of her childhood before the orphanage._
> 
> _Perhaps it's best I don't know-"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 19 "Cuddling."
> 
> HERE WE GO WOLFLETH PART 2 FINALLY.
> 
> I got super sidetracked so it took me a bit longer then I originally thought.

It's a relief to get off the train in Enbarr, limbs stiff and a crick in her neck from the awkward position she'd chosen to sleep in. Beside her, her wolf stretches, paws splayed and spine perfectly bowed, yawn ending on a muted whine. "I know the feeling," she murmurs, setting her bag down in favor of stretching out herself and rubbing her neck. It's warm here, sea breeze bringing relief to the steady intensity of the afternoon sun hanging above them.

She knew the higher they got into the city though, the cooler it would get, eyes casting upwards from the station to where she knew the abandoned palace still loomed hidden behind all the buildings. Enbarr felt like home, felt like the one place in the world she truly belonged. Yet every time she reached out for an answer she only came up with a blank, fingers sifting through the spots in her memory that held only fragments as small as grains of sand. She gives up, leaving it unanswered, like much of her childhood before the orphanage.

_Perhaps it's best I don't know-_

A wet nose presses against her palm, startling her from her train of thought, attention dropping from the sky to the wolf beside her, snout shoved against her hand and eyes staring up at her. She huffs slightly, rubbing the wolf's head and scratching behind ears. Time to go, she thinks, bending down and picking up her bag. And go they do, weaving through the afternoon crowds. Her wolf sticks to her side as best as it can, pressed close against her hip as Edelgard threads between people with practiced ease. They move as a unit, a perfect set despite hardly being together for more than a few days.

Despite having been apart for years.

It raises more questions for her about the true nature of her wolf, makes her wonder if she hadn't just stolen someone's pet, no matter how much the wolf seemed to want to be with her. Makes her wonder if the wolf is even a wolf with how human it acted at times.

 _That's foolish,_ she thinks as they reach the street, joining in with the flow of foot traffic, you're not a child any more. Such fanciful things only happened in books and movies, no matter what the rumors might say. Myths and Urban legends, she'd heard them all in her time. Yet never once had she seen one, having silently laughed her way through a hunt for once such urban legend while everyone else with her stood in stark panic as the forest came alive around them.

All they'd found was a very large, very angry bear. She counted herself lucky she was always on her feet with how fast and how far they had all ended up running.

At least the pay had been good.

(In a way, she had become her own kind of urban legend; a silent drifter who came and went much like some kind of ghost.)

But a wolf being anything other than a wolf (or a wolf-dog of some kind) was too farfetched. Her wolf was just simply one that had been raised and trained very well.  
Yet, she found she couldn't quite shake the thought as she stopped to get lunch, showing the woman behind the counter what she wanted on the menu with easy gestures and a polite smile. She orders in double, her wolf patiently sitting outside, waiting.

"Is that your dog?" The cashier asks, leaning out over the counter slightly. Edelgard nods, voice tangled in her chest where it always ended up lodged around strangers. "Wow, pretty big."

She nods again, looking out to see her wolf watching her through the glass, head tipped, ears forward, tail wagging slightly. Eyes bright.

"You can bring her in, you know," the cashier says, bringing her attention back. "I bet she's hungry."

 _She?_ Edelgard turns to look again, eyes swinging back to the woman behind the counter with a pinched, confused expression. "I'm serious, it's too hot for them to be sitting outside."

Edelgard doesn't ask any further questions, opening the door and whistling. Her wolf comes immediately, trotting up to her side and through the door when Edelgard moves back to allow her in. She chooses instead to hang around in the cafe instead of ordering to go, finding a place out of the way and giving her wolf room to settle beside her, reaching out to scratch behind her ears.

He? She? She wasn't sure, didn't know how to tell, had never even had a pet before this one. And an unusual one at that, she thinks, letting the wolf lay her head against her thigh. Eventually she'd have to take her to the vet and find out for real, what kind of wolf (or if she was a wolf-dog), gender, get her vaccinated. She had enough saved up she could probably managed to do it.

It was just...doing it.

She was great at intent, the follow through? Not so much. Not because she simply didn't want to, but making phone-calls proved to be difficult when you couldn't respond to the person on the other end of the line. 

"I understand why you ordered two now," the cashier from before comments as she comes over, tray in hand with her chosen meal. "I made the second one all meat, and brought you a side order of water." Her wolf lifts her head watching as the woman sets the tray down on the table. Edelgard inclines her head, tapping her hands together quietly in thanks. "Enjoy," the woman says, then disappears back behind the counter.

She does, quietly savoring every bite as she feeds her wolf slices of chicken and beef between each mouthful of her own. Her wolf's tail thumps quietly against the floor, ears flicking around to listen to every sound going on inside of the cafe, the low drone of conversation carrying over whatever popular pop song is playing on the radio, the click and clatter of silverware and the noise of the kitchen.

Edelgard hears it all too, but she's certain it's not as intensely as her wolf.

It's a nice place, not too big, not too small. Organized, clean, with every table set up to give each of it's guests their own little world. Abstract art and photographs line the brick walls, lit softly by the lights hanging down from the ceiling. She thinks she'd come back here if she got the chance, hopes she does.  
Her wolf noses at her wrist, whining quietly to get her attention. She looks down, shifting her hand enough to stroke her head and shake her own, tapping her finger against a now empty plate. 

_No more._

She gives her the water instead, and watches the way her wolf tries not to make a big mess out of it. She drinks slow, each swipe of her tongue careful, and Edelgard's eyebrow raises a little more with each swallow. It's...strange, again how human the wolf seems to act in times like this. She tilts her head when blue eyes meet her own, asking a question with the quirk of a lip and the shift of a brow.

Her wolf offers a tiny _whuff_ in response, tail wagging a little faster.

Edelgard cleans up, pays, and they leave, wolf once again pressed close against her hip as they mingle their way back into the foot traffic. They wander for a while, down the main drag, down alleyways and through shopping districts. Edelgard learns where she can and can't take her wolf, learns what places need someone to run errands or deliveries and what places she can stay at.

At the end of the day they have a hotel room. At the end of the week Edelgard has a job, wolf running alongside her as she makes deliveries. She enjoys the work despite the heat of the city, always pausing to enjoy when the cooler breeze blows in from off the water, or when she has the chance to climb to a higher point to look out over the sprawling ocean and the way Enbarr just seems to nearly meld into it without putting anyone in any danger.

"It's nice," she murmurs, looking down at her wolf where she rolls in the grass, tongue lolling out and tail wagging. "Not being alone anymore..." She bends down, sliding her hands along the wolf's tummy, laughing a little when her foot kicks and she wiggles in glee at the attention. "You're adorable."

Some days she has to leave her wolf behind at the hotel, struggling to ignore the way the her ears droop and she almost seems to pout at her before she shuts the door and leaves the wolf to sleep her day away. Each time when she arrives back, usually with an armful of groceries, the wolf is there at the door, whining and wuffing, tail wagging a mile a minute.

But she never jumps on her, instead hopping around slightly by her feet as Edelgard comes inside to put everything away.

Days off they spend outside together, in the city, in whatever shops she can get them into. She falls into the trap of spoiling her wolf, getting her toys she seems to like and plenty of treats. She has no need of a leash or a collar or a dog bed when her wolf refuses to sleep anywhere but on the bed with her, cuddled close to her side and hardly bothered when Edelgard ends up using her as a pillow in the middle of the night.

They spend a day in the park, with Edelgard throwing a ball for her wolf to chase down across the field at full speed, barking and bounding around each time she came back with it. Eventually the time finds them sitting by a pond, enjoying lunch. "You know," Edelgard muses, blinking when her wolf abandons her meal in favor of fixing all of her attention on her. "You're so dog like, but you're so human at the same time. It's been bothering me since the first time we met again."

Her wolf tilts her head to one side, then the other, considering. 

Edelgard doesn't expect an answer, but she also doesn't expect the way the wolf seems to come to some kind of conclusion, whuffing quietly at her before tackling her down to the grass and licking her face until she's laughing helplessly and struggling to push her off. Like she'd finally figured something out and her wolf was telling her she was right, or maybe she just thought she was being dumb.

Maybe she was just being dumb.

A week later she comes back from one of her solo trips to a stranger in her hotel room. She freezes in the doorway at the sight of her, blue hair falling down across her shoulders, familiar blue eyes meeting her own. They stand there for the longest time, silent, both clearly caught off guard.

It takes Edelgard an extra minute to realize the stranger is very naked, eyes dipping down to the sight of exposed breasts and even lower across a well chiseled stomach, her face heating the longer she looks. She forgets her panic, for just a second, forcing her attention back up to the other woman's face, aware she's probably about as red as the shirt she'd chosen to put on that morning. She searches for a word, a reaction, a yelp, something.

Instead her jaw works uselessly, embarrassment and panic both warring for control. Who was this woman? Where was her wolf? How did she get in here when the door was locked? Certainly not through the window, they were on the third floor with no balcony.

"Um," the woman finally says, shocking her out of her spiral of panicked thoughts. "Could you maybe shut the door?"

Oh.

_Wait--_

All she manages is an indignant noise instead of the tirade caught just underneath her chin. How dare she make such a request, how dare she be so familiar with her. How dare she stand there looking so innocent and still so naked!

"Look, I really don't want anyone to see me like this....I meant to have a blanket or a towel when you got back but you came back earlier then I expected--"

The realization hits her like a pile of bricks, eyes widening in a new shade of mute, mortified horror. This woman was her wolf.

"I'm sorry I know, I should have done this sooner." This woman who was currently rambling at her nervously, rubbing the back of her neck and struggling to find a way to cover herself. "I just, I was so afraid you'd freak out--and you are freaking out, you're totally freaking out, please don't faint you look like you're about to faint."

The woman shifts around awkwardly, almost dancing from foot to foot as Edelgard's brain decides to stop processing anything else she was saying. She does, however, shut the door behind her, leaning against it and closing her mouth to keep her from continuing to stare like some slack jawed idiot.

All those things she'd said, all the times she'd come and gone after a shower without any clothes on, all the times they'd slept together. "Oh Goddess," she croaks, covering her face with her hands as the embarrassment claws back in full force. 

"I shouldn't have done this," the woman is saying, closer now. "I told myself this would happen but I was just so happy when you realized that maybe I wasn't just a wolf...I'm so sorry, as soon as I have clothes I can just go-"

"No!" Edelgard blurts, waving her hands slightly. "No, don't-" She flounders with the reset of her sentence, voice lodging itself back in her throat.

"Okay," the woman says, holding her hands up, placating. "But, I mean...are you sure you want me to stay? Now that you know I'm actually a shape shifter?"

Did she? She asks herself, staring down at her boots and thinking hard about everything they had been through, all the things Edelgard had said and all the things this woman had already seen. She nods, looking back up at her face. 

"That's-I'm-I'm glad. I-I'm really happy here with you...like this. It's been so much fun, but I also thought that maybe I could help out more in this form...I just honestly didn't know how to broach the subject without playing two parts and man that's too much work..."

Edelgard laughs, pushing her hands through her short hair. How easygoing, how kind, how...

"What's your name?" she whispers finally, reminding herself over and over again that this woman knew her, that she was comfortable around her, that she could talk to her. It's an effort that finds her battling uphill against everything, that has her strangling down her terror and picking her way around the huge knot stuck in her throat.

"Oh! It's Byleth, it's uh, nice to meet you formally."

Edelgard nods, once, twice, finding herself once again looking a little too far down at those frankly, glorious breasts. "Byleth," she says, slowly, heat burning underneath the collar of her shirt. "Please put something on."

Byleth stops, stares, and Edelgard looks up in time to see the other woman's mortification cross her face as her cheeks stain a deep red. "I'm so sorry-" She wheezes, turning away to scramble for the blanket Edelgard had bought for her to sleep on.

Edelgard stares at the wall to avoid staring at Byleth's backside instead, brow furrowed in confused frustration. Damn her for being so pretty--

"Is this better?"

She looks back to see her tangled in the blanket, holding it closed. She'd have to go out and get Byleth clothes, because nothing she currently owned would fit her, and Byleth couldn't go walking around wrapped in a blanket all the time.

"I can sleep on the couch tonight," Byleth says, shuffling her feet. "Since I know this...is a lot and I can't expect to just shift back to wolf form and have things go back to normal."

Edelgard nods, again. 

Byleth talks at her while she goes about putting things away, tells her all about the places she had been before Edelgard had found her again. Talks about the people who tried to own her, about the family that had found her when she was still a puppy and raised her until they had to move and couldn't take her. She talks about her struggles to learn how to become human again and the few years she lived stuck and unsure how to function in proper society. She couldn't read, or write, had to learn how to talk.

It picks at her, and she finds herself understanding as she sets down plates full of food for them both. 

"Not the crash course I had in mind," Byleth says between mouthfuls of food. "But I managed, I met this group of traveling performers I stayed with for a while. They taught me the basics. You've taught me a lot too, unknowingly. All those times you read to me, I was reading over your shoulder."

She listens the entire time, smiling a little to herself at the memory of late nights spent reading aloud to a wolf she thought didn't understand a damn thing she was saying. She felt like an absolute fool now, realizing her initial thought she'd dismissed as some kind of fiction was actually true.

Byleth stays true to her word, curling up on the couch with her blanket. Edelgard doesn't sleep as well, missing the weight and presence she'd gotten so used to.

She's gone before Byleth wakes up, escaping out into the morning's humid chill. She buys clothes she thinks might fit the other woman, buys breakfast. She returns home to a worried Byleth, looking for all the world like she had been abandoned. 

"I'm back," Edelgard ventures, averting her eyes at the look of pure relief the other woman fixes her with. "M'sorry," she mumbles, putting the bag of clothes down. "I went shopping. I don't know if any of them will fit, so try them and I'll return whatever doesn't."

Byleth hugs her, pulling her close against her and tucking her face against her throat. Edelgard freezes, hands hovering over her sides, blinking owlishly at the wall. 

"I was so worried," the other woman whispers against her skin. "I thought that you had changed your mind and left and that was stupid and I'm-"

Edelgard cuts her off with a grunt and a shake of her head. "I want to stay together, but I need time to get used to...all this."

Byleth nods once, nods again, sighing her relief before she slips away to shower and try on her clothes. Most of them fit, and Edelgard makes another trip to return the ones that don't and buy more of the size that do. She washes them, fussing silently at the way the hotel washing machine still doesn't quite work right.

They fall into an odd sort of dance after that, Byleth trying her best to respect Edelgard's request even if it's clear she wants to be close, wants to cuddle up to her side again or lay on her. She's patient, so patient and gentle, waiting until Edelgard stops tensing on instinct before she risks laying her head in her lap again while she reads or watches TV.  
Waits until Edelgard makes the choice to curl into her side while they're sitting on the couch. She finds comfort in it, in being in another's arms, listening to the steady thump of Byleth's heart as much as she had enjoyed hearing it when she was just a wolf still.

They work together, they travel and sometimes Byleth is human and sometimes she's a wolf. And every time they always come back to Enbarr, eventually saving up enough to buy an actual apartment in the city. 

It becomes second nature again to share a bed and sleep cuddled up, waking up in an even more awkward tangle of limbs then before.

It's the new normal, and Edelgard finds she doesn't at all mind it.


	19. You Repeat The Same Old Mantra (Demon!Byleth AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"This task is going to be...tricky."_
> 
> _She opens an eye as soon as Hubert starts speaking to the room at large, half of them with faces stuck in holographic tablets or looking over weapons. She sits at the back of the room, feet kicked up on her desk, fingers threaded behind her head. She hates that word 'tricky' , it always means a problem for them Edelgard ends up saddled with._
> 
> _"Tricky how?" she asks, watching him out of the corner of her eye. The others have all started to look up from their work, focusing on the soon to be verbal tennis match that would spark between the two of them."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 25. "Tricky"
> 
> Woo I haven't updated this one in a bit but I'm back finally! This is a longer one cuz it super got away from me and like the Bloodborne au and others contained in here it will probably have more than one part to it.
> 
> Some Demonleth for y'all and constantly tired cranky soldier!Edelgard.

"This task is going to be...tricky."

She opens an eye as soon as Hubert starts speaking to the room at large, half of them with faces stuck in holographic tablets or looking over weapons. She sits at the back of the room, feet kicked up on her desk, fingers threaded behind her head. She hates that word 'tricky' , it always means a problem for them Edelgard ends up saddled with.

"Tricky how?" she asks, watching him out of the corner of her eye. The others have all started to look up from their work, focusing on the soon to be verbal tennis match that would spark between the two of them.

"As in we'll be walking right under our enemies nose to do it, there's an auction in three days time," he says, dark eyes meeting her half stare. "And one of the products being sold is believed to be a Demon."

The room drops into silence, all eyes now on Hubert. Edelgard's eyebrow raises slowly, lips parting around words that don't quite make it out. What the fuck she chokes on it, bites the words down and lets them break and shatter on her tongue.

"And you're suggesting we, what, break in and steal it?" She asks, sitting up, sliding her fingers through her hair and sneering. "This isn't 'tricky' Hubert, this is suicide."  
Both words were understatements. If they were lucky, they'd get slaughtered, if they were unlucky they'd get captured, and she wasn't about to go back to another church facility to be indoctrinated. Five years of torture had been enough.

"However," she adds, breath whistling between her teeth. "I know you, and I also know that you wouldn't even bring this up unless you had a very, very clever plan. Or things were leaning far more in out favor."

She hadn't put her life in his hands on multiple occasions for no reason, after all. It had been him who bailed her out, it had been him by her side for so many years they had all blurred together until she had forgotten the number. The other's had trickled in throughout those years until the team had grown into something substantial. 

An entire operation.

"You're absolutely correct," Hubert says, fond amusement at her outburst ticking at the edges of his lips before it's gone again. "The place the auction is being held is on neutral ground, so the amount of soldiers will be less then normal." He drops his tablet down, the holographic image displayed on it enlarging for all of them to see. It flickers faintly, casting the room in blue. "We only have to worry about security check points here." He highlights the section in question, finger tracing up to a second point. "And here."

"So," Ingrid chimes in, leaning closer to get a better look. "In the auction hall and right before the basement?"

"Correct," Hubert says, leaning back from the display. "We have two teams, one will infiltrate the auction as guests to keep an eye on the activity of the church and the second will break in from another route the auction house owner told us about. I will leave the selection of the teams to Captain Hresvelg."

It's bare bones and something they'd done on more than one occasion already. Slip in, stir up some chaos, then slip out with their cargo in hand. It helped that a lot of the people tended to favor towards their pocket of resistance, those that hadn't been brainwashed by the church and refused to completely submit to it's often heretical whims.

"Selling Demons," she mutters, settling back down and letting the team ease back into pre-mission tension. "What sort of insanity...." She wonders if they had ended up with it by accident, or created it on purpose for some sinister reason they were about to inadvertently walk in on.

"I don't like this," she says a moment later, chin propped on her palm and eyes set on Hubert still standing across the room. "We could be walking into a trap. I'm aware we can't exactly let a Demon be sold to the highest bidder and used for whatever ends...."

"Ah," Hubert drawls, nodding. "I see your concern, Captain, and it is one I share. There is a chance this Demon could have been placed to draw us out, which would make your initial assumption of this mission entirely correct."

"If that's the case," Linhardt chimes in, eyes closed and half awake. "Then we'll all die at least."

"Man, I really don't wanna die!" Caspar adds from beside him, throwing his hands up. "But that's just this line of work, huh."

"Alright," Edelgard cuts in, wrapping her knuckles on the desk. "Focus, people. If It all goes to hell-" she ignores the small ripple of laughter, the irony of her statement hardly lost on her, "Only the team downstairs will die, the team upstairs will be able to escape and carry on. Which means Hubert, you'll be leading the infiltration team with Ferdinand, Dorothea, Linhardt and Claude. I'll be leading the extraction team, Ingrid, Caspar, Petra and Dimitri. The other's will remain on standby in case things do, in fact, go horribly wrong."

All she could do was hope it would be enough, hope that five crest bearers could go toe to toe with a Demon if it came down to it.

Not how she envisioned this week to go.

\------

"So, Hubie called this 'tricky'," Dorothea says over the radio the night of the auction, all of them slowly picking their way to their destination. It's a pain in the ass, she thinks, inching underneath a low hanging tree and employing all of her training to move as silently as possible, to even remotely get close to the building from this angle.

Let alone get inside the fucking thing. 

"Tricky," Edelgard murmurs in reply. "It makes sense why they chose this place," she adds, hearing the others moving through the shadows alongside and behind her. "It's well fortified thanks to the surrounding forest, which would deter most rebel cells from bothering."

"But we're not most rebel cells," Dorothea replies, easily able to fill in the words Edelgard had been thinking. "No movement from the guards," she adds a second later, the tone of her voice lower and more serious. "They're more interested in the party then doing their jobs, it seems."

"Good for us," Petra says, hunkering down at Edelgard's side. "They will be lax, then."

"They must really be banking on this Demon," Dimitri says at her other side. "If they're willing to be so relaxed."

"Or they think we won't show up because of how difficult it is to get through these woods," Ingrid says, and Edelgard turns slightly in time to watch her pick a loose piece of brush out of her armor. 

"We've been walking for hours," Caspar grumbles. "This place is like some kinda maze."

"Quiet," Petra says. "We're at the perimeter."

And it's where they stay, for several long minutes, watching, listening. 

"Uh," Caspar says finally, after the silence had stretched on long enough the crickets had begun to make a deafening ruckus around them. "How long are we gonna sit here and stare at the bricks?"

Petra side eyes him, biting back a smile.

"I find the brickwork quite impressive," Dimitri says. "But my legs disagree."

She can almost imagine Hubert pinching the bridge of his nose over the line, hearing his sigh filter though a second later. She muffles her laugh against her glove.

\-----

It takes them half a circuit of the building, inching through the cover the edge of the woods offers. "It's on the east side," Hubert supplies, and she can hear the clink of glasses and the noise of conversation from inside. "The auctioneer left it unlocked."

"I see it," Petra says, bringing them all to a halt long enough to cast a glance around. "Clear. No patrols," she adds, frowning. "I do not like this."

"None of us do," Edelgard agrees, slipping past her. "Just be ready for it all to go south. There could still be barriers or magic traps between here and that Demon."  
She still can't believe they were about to steal a Demon from the church, what the hell were they even going to do with the damn thing anyway? Force it to return to the underworld?

They very well couldn't let it go to wander about until it had to return to the underworld, and as dangerous as Demons were, Edelgard had no desire to give it off for someone to poke and prod at for research.

And she wasn't about to make a contract with it.

Send it back to the underworld it was, then. 

"What are we going to do with this thing anyway?" Claude asks suddenly as they're slipping though the thankfully really unlocked door. Edelgard makes a note to thank the auctioneer if they survived this ordeal. "I mean we can't keep it."

"We're sending it home," Edelgard says, motioning for them to all activate the night vision in their helmets. "Because I'm not in the mood to deal with any other potential method."

Demons were tricky. She would know.

They descend in tight formation, moving as one unit down steps and around corners, someone always watching every possible angle. Their steps echo faintly down the stone hallways, the air a cool respite from the near oppressive humidity outside.

It's silent beyond them and she can feel the tension between the whole team, each of them wondering the same thing. When would the other shoe drop, when would the world explode into violence and shouting and the roar of gunfire.

It never does, and suspicion inches higher, tension so thick she could practically taste it. 

"Through here?" Dimitri asks, hand resting carefully on the doorknob. She nods once, raising her gun, the others following suit behind her. Dimitri counts from three, then opens the door, all of them slipping in and scanning.

"There," Petra whispers, gesturing with her gun towards the other end of the room. She turns to the sight of something bound and sitting against the far wall, humanoid.

Too humanoid.

It looks up as they inch closer, eyes glowing.

"It's you," Edelgard whispers, recognizing the face almost immediately. The horns, the great wings, the tail that was likely just as bound as the rest of her.

"You know it?" Dimitri asks, pressing closer in to her side.

"....The raid at the church facility, she was there."

She.

Edelgard remembers it like it was yesterday, the chaos that had unfolded as soon as the Demon had swooped in from above like a giant bird of prey. Both sides had suffered massive casualties at the hands of their unwanted third party, each turning from their own personal war to try and deal with the Demon. It had ended with them face to face amid a pile of bodies and blood, fear threatening to grip her as the creature stood there, clawed hand raised and a smile on her face.

"I saved your life," She had said, voice lighter than Edelgard had expected. "So let's make a deal, hm? I find you interesting."

Edelgard hadn't lowered her gun, eyes narrowing as she kept the creature's forehead in her cross-hairs. "No thanks."

She had ignored the look of disappointment that crossed the Demon's face as she backed away, expecting the thing to rip her open the second she turned her back to run.  
Now here they were again, under very different circumstances.

"That's her?" Dimitri asks, startled. "And we're going to rescue her?"

"She spared me, I guess I can call it even now," she replies, lowering her gun slightly. "Not that I ever anticipated something like this happening."  
It bothers her more, instinct rattling around in the back of her mind and screaming at her not to trust any of this even more than it had. 

The Demon watches them, watches her, head tilted slightly to one side. "Funny how that works," she says finally, shifting her legs slowly. "Usually humans save us by accident first and we return the favor, it's never been in the reverse."

Edelgard focuses down again, tongue pressing to the backs of her teeth. 

"Hey, Edie, the auction is about to start. So whatever you're doing please do it fast," Dorothea cuts in suddenly, the quiet undercurrent of anxiety in her tone enough to get them all moving. 

"If you try anything," Edelgard hisses, leaning down as Petra and Dimitri cut through the seals binding the Demon in place. "I will send you right back to hell in a less than ideal way for you."

The Demon smiles. Edelgard scowls.

It takes too much time to untangle the Demon enough to move, too much time for them to navigate back the way they came. They hear voices by the time they've reached the steps to the outside, flashlight beams bobbing across the stone. They freeze, then rush up a little higher, silent and paranoid, pressing in close to the walls and each other as they watch for the church guards to pass. The Demon is at her back, impossibly close, heat radiating through her armor and making her sweat.

She watches as the pair of guards walks by the opening they've hidden themselves in, fingers tightening their hold on the gun jamming into her hip. She motions for them to move the second the guards are out of sight, scrambling the team up the steps and out into the humidity, across the lawn and back into the woods. "Get out of there," she says over the radio, pushing The Demon along with a hand on her back. "The guards are going to realize the Demon is gone very shortly, if they haven't already."

"We're on our way out now," Hubert replies, Dorothea's voice carrying over his mic as she weaves up a tale to get them out before all hell break's loose. Someone starts shouting and all of them start moving faster, running though the trees and letting the night blur by around them. 

The Demon in front of her laughs, loud and joyous and childish. 

"At least someone is having fun!" Dimitri says, running alongside. "I suppose you have less to worry about!"

"Don't worry!" The Demon replies. "I'll make sure you all make it out of this alive!"

Demons were tricky, and Edelgard immediately wants to ask what the price for it was. What they would need to do on the off chance they needed to enlist the Demon's help.

"My name is Byleth," she says, looking over her shoulder, as if aware of how Edelgard had been referring to her in her run of thoughts. "Maybe this time you'll remember it."

"You never introduced yourself the last time," Edelgard replies, exasperated. "How was i suppose to remember?" Her lips thin, and she fights the urge to roll her eyes. "Never mind, just focus on running!"

Byleth laughs again, that same near childish note and Edelgard hates the way her face heats with it.

Fucking demons.

\--------

They make it out of the woods and back to the transport with time to spare, Hubert and his team crashing in with some measure of alarm seconds later. No one asks what happened, or how much trouble might be looming behind the second team. They simply buckle in and depart, the transport peeling out and onto the road with Ingrid at the wheel and Hubert navigating.

The rest of them sit in back in relative silence, exchanging looks and watching Byleth where she's made herself comfortable right beside Edelgard. Byleth watches her specifically, content to ignore the rest of the team at large in favor of scrutinizing her. It's irritating and her jaw ticks where she sets it long enough her teeth ache. "Is something interesting?" She asks finally, glancing up at the other woman. "You've been staring at me for a while now."

"This is the first time I've seen you without your helmet on. You're.....pretty." She blinks once as if the word had never left her lips in reference to a human or another demon. "I knew there was something about you the moment I saw you in the thick of it, fighting with everything you had. You were a sight there, blood spattered and furious."

Byleth leans closer and out of instinct Edelgard leans away slightly, frowning. Out of the corner of her eye both Dimitri and Petra have shifted, ready to intervene if they had to.

"I very nearly died," she says, terse. "So yes, I admit I did lose my cool."

Professional. Perfectly so.

Byleth smiles again, but it's different, gentle.

"I chose you," she says a moment later, the transport slowing the closer they get to the city and home.   
Edelgard hesitates to ask.

"You're aware Demons can't stay on this plain permanently without some kind of binding," Byleth says, almost reading her mind. "That was why they wanted to auction me off so bad, I wouldn't accept a contract with anyone in the church, nor could they seal me in their labs. Because I was looking for a certain someone."

"And that certain someone is me, I suppose," Edelgard states dryly, raising an eyebrow. 

"Exactly. From the moment I saw you in that facility I knew you would be the one who could help me as much as I could help you. You have a team, a foothold. But you also don't understand what's going on like I do, considering it a fair trade." Byleth leans back again, settling against the seat. "I'll give you some time to think it over, but try not to take too long. I don't have much time left before I have to go home."

She considers leaving her in a holding room until that point, then throws the idea right back out. Byleth seemed determined enough that even if she had to go home, she'd return with the same intent of worming her way into her life one way or another. Even if it was at the fringes as it had been, apparently.

Waiting.

_'Tricky.'_

She hated that word.


	20. A Turn Of Gears (Steampunk!AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Can I help you?" a voice says from behind her, freezing her in place just as her fingers brush against cool metal. She turns with it, blinking and focusing on the woman behind her. For a moment they watch one another, assessing quietly. Edelgard realizes that the woman with the deep blue hair and matching eyes isn't human, noting the mechanical way she moves._
> 
> _"I arrived by accident," she says, eyes flickering back to the door before returning to the automaton behind her. "A wrong turn, if you will. I apologize for my intrusion."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 28 "Innocence"
> 
> Hi, I'm back, sorry I've been absent for idk months but I'm back. Just slow as molasses.
> 
> This idea hit me in the face at 2am and wouldn't go away so here we go.

Stepping into the shop was nothing more than an accident, a wrong turn made blindly while looking over her shoulder. Edelgard thought it was the small cafe she always frequented, not at all expecting to look up from the tiled floor to the sight of..."Antiques?" she murmurs, slender eyebrow raised. There was dozens of them, settled on shelves and glass cases scattered around the display floor. Some look fairly average, a tea set made from fine china, a collection of beautifully crafted porcelain dolls. A Matryoshka collection with more than a dozen variations all contained in a single glass case.

Others, others are stranger, leaning more towards the occult. Bones and vials of things Edelgard doesn't try to make sense of, all aged. A taxidermied coyote that eyes her from it's spot on the counter. 

I should leave, she thinks, turning on her heel and reaching for the handle. 

"Can I help you?" a voice says from behind her, freezing her in place just as her fingers brush against cool metal. She turns with it, blinking and focusing on the woman behind her. For a moment they watch one another, assessing quietly. Edelgard realizes that the woman with the deep blue hair and matching eyes isn't human, noting the mechanical way she moves.

"I arrived by accident," she says, eyes flickering back to the door before returning to the automaton behind her. "A wrong turn, if you will. I apologize for my intrusion."

For a brief moment the automaton looks disappointed, shoulders falling and eyes dipping to the floor; such a realistic mimicry of a pout it pulls at Edelgard in a way she tries to ignore. 

"No one arrives here by accident," another voice comments and Edelgard looks up in time to see another woman emerging from a back room. She's tall, mint green hair tied back into a braid, suit neatly pressed and inlaid with intricate embroidery. She moves with an ease and a silence that sets Edelgard on edge, teeth pressing to the inside of her lip. 

The new woman pauses by the automaton, resting a gentle hand against her shoulder. "You're looking for something," the woman says, focus falling on her again. "A way to prove your innocence, wash your hands of the blood that was falsely put there."

Edelgard doesn't like the way the woman seems to know, looking through her to find the truth she always kept hidden. The death that wasn't her fault, the blood that dripped off the tips of her fingers as she attempted to stem the flow of it from a wound. The accusations and threats that echoed off the walls of the now abandoned manor.

"I doubt an antique's shop and it's owner can help me," she replies, not bothering to hide the defensive nature of her tone, lips pursed and teeth pressed together, just this side of grinding.

"Are you so sure?" the woman counters, hands folded in front of her. "Perhaps if I were a mundane sort you'd be right, nothing here would be of any use to a woman on the run."

The automaton takes those words as a kind of command, slipping away from the other woman's side and wandering away, vanishing among the various display cases. 

"What makes you 'not the mundane sort'?" Edelgard asks, half regretting it despite her curiosity. It wouldn't do her any good to get involved with this odd woman and her automaton, if anything it would just drag them both into her problems.

"I think I've already proved that by knowing things I shouldn't," the other woman answers, splaying a hand in her version of a shrug. 

"So you have friends in high places," Edelgard retorts. "I'm their favorite dinner topic after all."

The aristocrat allegedly responsible for the murder of her entire family, the sole survivor found among a dozen bodies. Covered in blood and traumatized. She couldn't even remember what happened that night, just the ending of it, just Dimitri's grief and anger and Hubert's hands on her as he pulled her away, urging her out of the manor and into a run.

But Edelgard was never a woman to run from her problems, having spent the better part of the last few years unwinding the mystery surrounding what happened at Hresvelg estate and why she had been blamed for it.

Outside a steam machine wanders by, it's steps bringing her back from her unwilling descent into a fragmented past. She blinks once, turning to watch it as it lumbers along, the people on the street all parting to get out of it's way.

She exhales. 

"Who are you anyway?" She asks as she turns back. "If you're so convinced you can help me, the least you can do is tell me your name."

"Rhea," the other woman replies, smiling. 

_Oh._

"Yes," Rhea says, clearly able to read the realization settling across her features. "I am exactly who you think I am."

The daughter of the Queen. Edelgard had only ever heard about her in name, having never seen her face until this very moment. In hindsight she should have made the connection, the hair color and her eyes were a dead giveaway to her identity. 

This day just keeps getting worse.

"And you didn't have me arrested on the spot, how kind of you."

Rhea laughs, a light and musical sound. "Because I know you're innocent, the problem you face now is proving to the rest of the aristocracy that you are."

The words only deepen her suspicion, violet eyes narrowing. "You're royalty, if you know I'm innocent why not say it?" 

"Our word is law, yes, but you know exactly why I won't." 

Edelgard does. Words don't prove anything, only evidence does. Only the true criminal being brought to light would make all of the hatred and distrust of her disappear. Even if Rhea claims her innocence, it wouldn't erase the black stain on her record. It wouldn't make anyone look at her without hostility.

If anything, it would make it worse, and bring problems to the royal family.

So there was more to Rhea than Edelgard was aware. 

The automaton returns a moment later, presenting her with an envelope. 

"Do what you will with the contents, you have a week."

Edelgard's eyes jump from the envelope to where Rhea still stands, now looking so out of place among all of these things in this little hole in the wall shop. "Until?"

"Until what the Aristocracy sent after you catches up."

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/modulatechaos)


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